No Greater Love
by Spaced Angel
Summary: When Cheetara falls ill, Lion O faces a terrible dilemma and makes a terrible decision! Oneshot.
1. Chapter 1

_**No Greater Love**_

**For Tara**

**Part One**

She looked annoyed. Correction, she looked tired _and_ annoyed. Too bad, Panthro thought. No one got out of training sessions. There were no excuses and no exceptions. Apart from serious illness, of course, or enforced bed rest. But then a headache did not qualify as either of those. Yea gods, it was no good complaining about a pain in the head or belly when faced with a Mutant. Whine like that and they would soon give you something to make you forget the pain permanently.

Still, he did have some sympathy for her. Regularly consulting Cheetara's sixth sense was taxing her considerably. Back on Thundera, he knew that she had always viewed it as a last resort, for a serious trance had been known to pitch her into unconsciousness that could last all day. A burden, she called it. Right here and now though, the advantages well outweighed any negative effects. He consoled himself with the certainty that if Cheetara could not handle it, then she would tell them so. Recently, however, a little voice had started whispering in his ear that she was a stubborn little cat, who might well stoically carry on through the pain. After all, this was the Thundercat who had dragged herself out the desert with a broken leg to warn Cat's Lair of the approach of amassed Mutant forces after they had devastated the southern villages.

Looking at her now, as she wandered listlessly into the chamber, he tried to appraise her condition surreptitiously. Dark circles hung under her eyes and, judging from the way that her hand drifted to her head, her headache persisted. Nothing that a good night's sleep couldn't cure, he thought. A good training session would help her sleep all the more soundly.

"You all right?" he asked when she joined him.

Cheetara shrugged. "I've had better days."

Panthro fought to suppress a chuckle. "And plenty of worse ones too, don't forget."

A smile twitched the corners of her lips. "I'm just tired, that's all. I suppose asking for a reprieve..."

"Is out of the question, yes," he finished for her.

"Slave-driver," she muttered, giving him a sideways glance to make sure he had heard.

"Watch it, you," he growled back good-naturedly. "If you get me, I'll show no mercy." His attention was diverted to the opening door, where Lion-O and Tygra were just entering, deep in conversation. The Thunderkittens skittered past them and danced across the chamber.

"I've got the names!" declared WilyKit, holding aloft six pieces of paper.

"And I've got the bag!" said her brother, who came bounding along proudly bearing a doubled-up slip of black fabric held together with a woven cord.

"Well done, kittens. I had forgotten," Panthro said, taking their offerings. The names went into the bag and he pulled the drawstrings tight. "Glad you could join us," he said to Lion-O and Tygra when the pair finally joined them.

"Sorry, there was something Tygra had to show me," Lion-O said. "It was kind of important."

"Yeah, there's funny weather," said WilyKit.

"And it's headed this way," said WilyKat.

"What was that?" came a disgruntled little voice. Panthro looked down to find that Snarf had trailed his charge in, and now stood with his nose wrinkled in obvious displeasure. "Not snow, I hope."

"No, Snarf, a thunderstorm," Tygra told him.

"Well, that's just dandy," muttered Snarf. "Wind and rain and sleet! Brrr, makes my toes curl just thinking about it."

"It's not like it's going to affect us," said WilyKat. "We'll be safe here, won't we?" An edge of concern had entered the cub's voice and he looked to his elders for reassurance. He was met by solid nods all round.

"It's not us I was worried about," said Tygra. "The Berbils have left it late this year with their harvest. We should warn them about this approaching weather system. Just in case."

"I agree," said Lion-O. "We can help them gather it in. Tomorrow--"

"Is another day," said Panthro, interrupting him. "Right now, it's the moment of truth." He knelt down and offered the bag to Snarf. "We await your choice, your lordship."

The little creature purred with obvious pleasure at the inflated title. "Weeow, now Panthro, don't be silly. I'm plain ol' Snarf as well you know."

"But today you hold our fate in your paws. Who gets to fight who rests on you."

Snarf looked uneasily at the gathered Thundercats. "I'm still not happy with this idea. Don't seem right to me, snarf, snarf. Fighting each other. We're friends, not enemies."

"It's good practice for us, Snarf," said Lion-O. "No one actually gets hurt."

"Well, if you insist," he said, finally relenting. Shutting his eyes, he thrust his hand into the open bag and drew out a screwed-up piece of paper. The name he read out elicited an audible groan from its owner.

"It would be me," Cheetara muttered.

"Cheer up," said Lion-O. "You never know, you might get me."

The look on her face suggested that might not necessarily be a consolation. Panthro grinned at his young lord's innocence and again offered the bag to Snarf. This time his stubby fist withdrew a name scrawled in WilyKat's untidy handwriting. Snarf squinted at it and tutted.

"That's not how you spell 'Tygra'," he chided the cub. "That should be 'Y', not 'I'."

WilyKat rolled his eyes. "Does it matter? We all know who I mean."

"Indeed we do," said Tygra. "Well, m'lady, are you ready for this?"

"Not really," Cheetara sighed.

"Why? What's wrong?" asked Lion-O.

"She's feeling a bit delicate this morning," said Panthro. "And trying to milk our sympathy for it."

"You are?" Lion-O said, turning to her.

"I've got a headache," she said. "It's nothing. It'll pass."

"Cheetara, if you aren't up to this," Tygra began, but Panthro cut him short.

"Of course she's up to it," he said. "Now quit stalling you two and get on with it."

"Panthro, if she's not well--"

"Try telling that to Mumm-ra," he said tersely. "Did he ever cut us any slack for illness?"

Tygra gave him a look of exasperation, but Panthro ignored it. To his mind, giving in to sickness was a sign of weakness. Once an exception was made, it opened the door to all sorts of abuses. First a headache, then a slight twinge in the back, then a funny feeling in the stomach, then no weapons practice at all. Slave-driver he might be, but it was for her own good, he told himself.

"He's right," Cheetara said, as if to confirm his thoughts. "I'll manage."

"If you're sure," said Tygra. She gave a small nod. "Do you want me to be 'Mutant'?" Again she nodded. He shot Panthro a look of concern and sighed. "In that case, I think I'll take an axe."

He went over to the rack and selected his weapon. A finely-tooled, doubled-headed piece, it was more elaborate than a training session demanded, but at least it was authentic. Following the destruction of Thundera, the royal flagship had fallen pray to waiting Mutant ships and had been boarded. After Lion-O's sudden appearance with the Sword of Omens, their attackers had beat a hasty retreat. The axe had been part of the debris left in the Mutants' wake. Its owner was probably still grieving for its loss.

Pushing thoughts of the past aside, Panthro turned his attention back to the matter in hand. Cheetara and Tygra were circling, each trying to anticipate when the other would strike. The rules were simple. Try to simulate actual combat as closely as possible with the objective being to make your opponent yield. No quarter was to be given unless asked for, which was not often, given the sheer stubbornness of the parties concerned, but it was there if needed. As Lion-O had said, these training sessions were not about hurting anyone.

All the same, despite his insistence, Panthro was starting to have misgivings. When the attack did come, Cheetara was slow to react. He caught his breath as the axe swung in her direction. She managed to get out of its downward trajectory with only a hair's breadth to spare. Then she pulled herself together and rallied. Her staff blocked the next blow and the next, although Tygra was relentlessly driving her back before the murderous slice of the weapon's reach. She hit the wall before realising it was there. The shock of the blow seemed to stun her into inaction. In a second, Tygra had tossed away the axe and snatched her staff from her hands. Pressing it against her neck, he pinned her to the wall.

"Yield!" he growled.

"Let me go!" she protested, vainly trying to fend him off.

"When I'm winning?" he said, tightening his grip on her to press home his advantage. "Never!"

"Aren't you the one who always says never give up?"

Tygra grinned. "And how do you suggest you get out of this?"

"Looks like he's got you," said Panthro, secretly pleased that the fight was at an end. As sure as he was that Tygra knew what he was doing, some of those potentially lethal slices had come too close for comfort. Even though he knew his friend was pulling his punches, Cheetara was still having trouble keeping up. Now, he felt a twinge of guilt as he saw her hang her head and give a small nod. She hated to lose, especially when he knew that they were closely matched in ability. On good days, he had known the pair to battle it out until tiredness alone brought the match to an end. For Cheetara to give up so easily must mean that she was feeling unwell indeed. He guessed that Tygra had noticed it too and had forced an end to the contest.

He watched as the tiger relaxed his grip on the staff. As the pressure was removed from her neck, Cheetara suddenly came to life. With a fierce roar, she pushed Tygra in the chest, snatching the weapon away from him as he fell back in surprise. The staff swept round and took his feet from under him. He crashed to the ground and, seconds later, Cheetara was on top of him, straddling his chest, with her staff forsaken for the deadlier axe, which she held above her head.

"Now you yield!" she roared.

Tygra's hands moved to the thighs squeezing his ribcage and tried to push them away. Cheetara let out a snarl as she tightened her grip, making her captive gasp.

"Cheat!" he panted. "You surrendered!"

"Did anyone hear me say that?" she shot back. "Your mistake, tiger. Now yield, unless you want to lose your head!"

The hairs rose on the back of Panthro's neck. Something in her voice made the crazy thought flash through his mind that this was no idle threat, that she actually meant it.

"Cheetara," he began uncertainly.

"Shut it!" she barked. The eyes she turned in his direction blazed with yellow fire. A chill ran through him. She was in the grip of a berserker rage. Every warrior instinct he possessed was screaming at him to intervene, but before he could, Tygra gave in.

"You win," he said, raising his hands in defeat.

Cheetara gave no indication that she had heard him. She seemed frozen, except for the slight tremble that had started in her arms. Somewhere in the background, the Sword of Omens roared a warning, but Panthro was already racing across the mats. Time seemed to slow, not nearly slow enough for the heavy axe suddenly shook violently and with its weight brought itself and its wielder down. Still too far away to help, he could only watch as the weapon fell straight towards Tygra's head. Inches from his face, the tiger caught it and with the other hand tried to support Cheetara's limp body.

"What in the name of Jaga's going on here!" Panthro yelled, dashing to his side. "You all right, Tygra?"

His face had paled and he looked shaken. A small nod was all he could manage as Panthro pulled Cheetara aside and set her down on the mat beside him.

"That was close," said Lion-O, who had rushed over to join them.

"You said it," muttered Panthro.

"What's wrong with Cheetara?"

Tygra shook his brush with death aside and pushed himself up. "She's breathing," he said, passing his hand over her parted lips. "Let's get her to the infirmary." He scooped her up in his arms and hurried away with Lion-O and Snarf following closely behind.

Panthro watched them go, feeling torn between being there by her side or trying to make himself useful elsewhere. To see a fellow Thundercat ill was bad enough, worse still when it was a friend. And then there was the guilt. This is your fault, whispered his conscience. You pushed her too hard, it said accusingly.

"How was I to know?" he growled under his breath. The feeling he was being watched made him lower his gaze to where two pairs of anxious eyes were staring up at him.

"Will Cheetara be all right?" WilyKit asked in a small voice.

He had to swallow hard before he could answer the kitten. "She'll be just fine," he said, inwardly flinching at the tremor he heard in his own voice.

"She didn't look very well," said WilyKat.

Panthro looked back to the now empty doorway. "No, she didn't," he murmured. "Pray Jaga that we're wrong, kittens. Pray very hard indeed."

--o0o0o--

A long day had slipped into the grey embrace of twilight. Shadows crept from corners to reach out with gloomy fingers towards the sleeper in the bed and the watcher at her side. He had sat with her since Tygra had finished his initial examination and pronounced that rest was needed. That was several hours ago and still she had not stirred. Her hand in his was unnaturally limp and, were it not for the reassuring rise and fall of her chest, he could have sworn that her life had slipped away. That one so fast should now be so still troubled him deeply, on a level beyond the concern he should have felt for an ill friend. In the many hours that had passed, he had tried not to analyse those feelings. Of course Cheetara would recover; she had to. A life without her was unimaginable.

The chamber grew suddenly bright and drew his attention away from his lonely vigil. He looked to the door where light from the corridor spilled in and cloaked the figure that was crossing the threshold in gloom. Tygra crossed to the bed, pulled up a chair and sat down beside him.

"Any change?" he asked in a hushed voice.

Lion-O shook his head. "No. Any luck finding out what caused it?" In the dark, he could just make out the deepening creases in the tiger's forehead. Not good, he decided.

"Best guess is that it's some kind of psychic shock," Tygra said.

"Guess?" he echoed. "Is that the best we've got?"

"Right now it's all we've got. Panthro wondered if this was another episode like the time she was in contact with that alien spacecraft."

Lion-O let his thoughts drift back to the events of that day. He had been afraid for her safety then too. Strange choice of word, he thought. Why afraid? Why not just plain worried? But no, afraid had been an accurate description then. Not now though; now, if he was honest, he was terrified. Given release through acknowledgement, fear clamped icy hands round his stomach and twisted it into knots.

"Are you all right?" Tygra asked. "You've gone very pale."

"Yeah, fine," Lion-O said with difficulty. "I was just thinking. That spaceship and Cheetara, well, this is different."

"I know. At least then she was partly conscious. Anyway, Panthro's seeing if the long-range scanners have picked anything up. It's a long shot, but..."

"It's worth a try," Lion-O finished for him. "Anything to save her." Despite the darkness, he could feel Tygra's keen gaze upon him and finally looked over at him. "What?"

"We're doing all we can, Lion-O," he said gently. "But it's important that we don't let ourselves get distracted by unnecessary sentiment."

"Unnecessary...! How can you say that?" Lion-O yelled. "Don't you care?"

To his annoyance, Tygra remained calm in the face of his outburst. "Of course I care. Cheetara is one of my oldest and closest friends. To lose her would be like losing part of myself. But wailing and tearing my mane out will help neither her nor me. I know how I feel about her, and knowing helps me understand and contain unproductive emotions."

Lion-O shot him an angry glare. "What's that supposed to mean?"

Tygra drew a deep breath and, sitting back in his chair, closed his eyes. "Why are you here?"

The frankness of the question threw him. Anger was replaced by confusion. Lion-O looked from his fellow Thundercat to the still cheetah and back again. "I... don't know what you mean," he stammered. "I'm here to... keep an eye on her, that's why."

"You've been here all afternoon. Snarf said you refused his offer to take over. So I ask again, why?"

"Because..." The lie he had concocted died in his throat. Instead he found himself speaking from the heart. "Because I don't want her to die. Because I don't know what I'll do without her."

Tygra's smile was reflected in his eyes when he opened them and looked over at him. "Better," he said. "Do you remember during the Anointment Trials, Lion-O? I said you would face your greatest fear. You did, and conquered it. But you will find in life that we exchange one set of fears for many others. We must master them before they master us. Do you understand what I'm saying?"

"That sitting here, getting upset, isn't helping Cheetara?"

"If being with her could bring her back to us, we would all be doing it," said Tygra. "Meanwhile, Panthro needs a hand, if you feel up to it."

"You'll stay here?"

"I want to check on her condition and run a few tests. Depending on what I find, I might move her back to the infirmary. Just so you know if you come here and find that she's gone."

"And if anything happens..."

"You'll be the first to know," Tygra said. "Now go, and get something to eat. Can't have the Lord of the Thundercats passing out from lack of food."

Lion-O relinquished his hold on Cheetara's hand and got to his feet. He made it to the doorway, only to stop and look back. To leave felt like betraying her. All his fine promises to help her, to save her, and yet he was walking away. Only the touch of Tygra's hand on his shoulder finally brought him back to reality and forced him from the room. He set off towards the Control Room, taking with him a soul as heavy as the gathering storm clouds in the skies above Cat's Lair.

--o0o0o--

The large bag was almost full. Still room enough for the particle analyser, Tygra thought. He looked up to where the grey device nestled on the uppermost shelf. Inwardly, he cursed. It was going to be a devil to get it down. Tidiness had its uses, but today it was proving to be a nuisance. Everything he needed seemed to be well out of his immediate reach. Nor was time on his side. Getting the ladder would take too long, especially as Panthro was waiting downstairs and growing ever more impatient by the minute. As it was, he already expected the panther to appear at any moment and drag him out by the mane.

Deciding that a little pain was preferable to a tongue-lashing, he pushed the stool over to the wall and clambered up on it. Normally, the top shelf was comfortably within his reach. Today, however, as he stretched up, a nagging ache started in his side and grew to new levels of discomfort with every inch higher that he raised his arm. The pain was crippling, making him gasp for breath and causing sweat to bead on his brow. He was forced to give up the unequal task. The analyser would have to remain on its cosy shelf, from where it mocked him for his failure.

"I'll get you yet!" he said to the disdainful device with its laughing coloured button eyes and its wide, grinning data slot mouth. One supreme effort later, it was in his trembling hands. In a second, he had gone past pain into stomach-churning, nauseating agony. Fire and ice coursed through his injured side, making him clutch at his ribs in an effort to quell their torturous reproach for such ill treatment. He collapsed down onto the stool and let the aching world swirl before his eyes.

The fever passed, reducing his body's complaints to a dull whisper. A few seconds of blessed peace were allowed to him before a deafening roar shattered the silence. The door flew back and Panthro stormed in, fairly quivering with rage.

"What in the name of Thundera are you doing?" he yelled. "We're waiting for you down-- what's the matter?"

Tygra smiled to himself. Typical Panthro, he thought. From demon to concerned friend in less than a heartbeat. "I'm all right," he said. "Just a bit dizzy."

"Dizzy, my foot," the panther retorted. "You're as pale as a unicorn and sweating from every pore."

"I said, I'm fine." He got to his feet and tried to act nonchalant. Panthro was not so easily deceived. From his position by the door, he studied him critically and frowned.

"What's wrong with your side?" he asked.

"Does nothing get past you?" Tygra muttered. "It's a couple of cracked ribs, that's all. Nothing too serious."

"I see," said Panthro. "And when were you going to mention this?"

"It's not important. It won't slow me down."

"It'd better not. 'Specially as I hear Lion-O's not coming with us."

The tone of the panther's voice suggested that he was waiting for an explanation. Ignoring him for the moment, Tygra carefully placed the hard-won device in the bag and zipped it shut. When he looked up, Panthro was still staring at him, expectation evident in his arched eyebrows.

"Because it's better if he stays here," he said.

"Why?" Panthro shot back.

"If I said that he would be more use here--"

"And what if we run into trouble? There's no saying what we'll have to deal with out there. Just because you've got your doubts doesn't mean I'm wrong!"

Tygra sighed wearily. He was tired, hurting, stressed and in no mood to engage in another pointless debate about their mission. When Panthro had discovered that a meteorite had crashed into Hook Mountain several days before, a new mood of hope had swept through the Lair. Panthro was convinced that it was the cause of Cheetara's distress. Tygra had been equally convinced, and still was, that it was not. The argument had raged between the two, until Snarf had suggested that no harm could come from finding out whether it was or not. It was after all, he had pointed out, the best lead they had, and hadn't Cheetara been ill before when that spaceship came out of nowhere and interfered with her sixth sense? With a convincing argument like that, Snarf had won the day, and Tygra had found himself outvoted. He had been tempted to point out the obvious differences between then and now. But, with nothing more positive to offer, he had held his tongue. As Snarf had said, nothing would be lost in checking out this lump of space matter. Nothing, except time, and he was still unsure how much of that precious commodity remained to his ill friend.

Telling Panthro that, however, would only vex him even more. A nerve already twitched in the burly panther's jaw and his arms were folded a little too tightly to convince Tygra that he was anything other than silently fuming. A different tack would be needed if he wanted to avoid a punch on the nose.

"The plan is a good one, Panthro, but I still think caution is needed," he said, being diplomatic. "I have a nagging suspicion that this whole thing could be a trick."

"For what purpose?"

He shrugged. "To lure us away from the Lair perhaps. The Mutants know how we're likely to react, having had one experience like this before. We leave the Lair and they sneak in while we're gone. You know how devious they are. Which is why I think Lion-O should remain here, to protect Cheetara and our home."

The light of confrontation died down in Panthro's eyes and Tygra could tell that he was at least half convinced by his argument. "And if there's a trap waiting for us?"

"Since when can't we cope?"

Panthro gave a small snort of laughter. "Point taken. I'm half hoping those pesky Mutants are up to something. I'm itching to punch someone's lights out, and Slithe would do just fine right now." He ran a hand over his head and sighed. "All right, tiger, you've won. It's me, you and the Thunderkittens. Are you ready?"

Tygra gestured to the bag. "Do you mind taking this for me?"

"Just this once," Panthro said, heaving it over his shoulder. "Wanna tell me how you got that injury?"

"Cheetara squeezed me a bit too tight in yesterday's training session."

The smile on the panther's face broadened into a knowing grin. "Between those strong thighs of hers, you mean. Some guys would pay serious money for an experience like that."

"Lucky me," Tygra grunted. "Sore ribs for free."

Panthro chuckled. "But seriously, are you up to this?"

"I'll manage. Just let me grab a painkiller."

"You've got two minutes, then we've leaving, with or without you."

"Oh, you're all heart," Tygra muttered to the panther's retreating back.

--o0o0o--

Rain lashed against the windows, adding to the rivulets already streaming down the glass. Lion-O stared out into the gloom. The storm had arrived earlier than expected. Luckily, the Berbils had their own early warning system for detecting bad weather and, with their harvest safely gathered in, they had battened down the hatches to sit out the deluge. Which is where every sensible creature is right now, Lion-O thought ruefully, except us. Sensible or not, he was having to fight the growing urge to rush out into the rain and follow the others to Hook Mountain. They had yet to signal to tell him that they had found the meteor, and worry was turning his already-agitated insides to mush. What if something had happened to them? But then the Sword of Omens would have warned him, he told himself. Whether they could find the meteor was another matter. This weather certainly would not be helping.

An overwhelming feeling of restlessness eventually drove him from the window. As he wandered down the corridor, he noticed how unnaturally quiet it was. Where there should have been the sounds of kittens' laughter or Panthro steadily cursing some troublesome of machinery or Snarf singing to himself, there was now silence. Like its inhabitants, the Lair brooded over the fate of the ill Thundercat within its walls.

Finding himself at the door of her room, he hesitated. Out in the corridor, he could comfort himself with the possibility that Cheetara's condition might have improved. Once the door slid back, he knew that the illusion would be shattered. Resigning himself, he opened the door and entered the chamber, only to stop in his tracks. The weak sunlight had been unable to dispel the lingering shadows of night, but it was enough for him to make out the empty bed. Hope soared. If she was up, then she must be better! Then, he remembered Tygra's words of earlier about taking her to the infirmary. With a heavy heart, he trudged out of the room and headed downstairs. Perhaps sitting with her did not achieve anything, but he had to do something, if only to quell his feeling of helplessness. Being with her would make him feel better, if nothing else.

A thin sliver of light showed beneath the infirmary door, confirming that the room was in use. He went inside, only to find another empty bed. The drawn back sheets showed that it had been occupied and only recently vacated from the warmth he could feel on the pillow. Again, faint hope ignited, only to be quashed by reality. If she was up, then where had she gone? Why had she not used the communicator to tell him that she was awake? Plagued by the feeling that something was very wrong, he dashed from the room and out into the corridor. But which way to go, he wondered. As he hesitated, the smell of baking bread wafted under his nose. The kitchen! She was probably hungry. Yes, he reassured himself, that's where he would find her. He flew towards the open door and his sudden entrance almost gave Snarf a fit.

"Weeow, don't do that, Lion-O," the little creature scolded, patting his chest to calm his fluttering heart. "I'm too old to be leapt out on, snarf, snarf."

"Snarf, I'm sorry, but this is important," Lion-O said, interrupting his flow. "Is she here?"

Snarf frowned. "Who?"

"Cheetara."

The frown turned into a look of dismay. "Oh, Lion-O, you know full well she's in the infirmary--"

"No, she's not. The bed is empty. She's not here? You've not seen her?"

"I've not seen anyone," Snarf said. "Where's Cheetara gone then, if she's not in bed?"

"That's what I'd like to know," Lion-O muttered. "Right, we search the Lair, top to bottom."

"Or you could use the internal sensors," Snarf suggested.

"Or I could do that, yes."

Snarf gave him a concerned look. "Are you feeling all right? You seem a bit out of sorts."

"My friend is ill and she's gone missing!" he retorted, banging his hand angrily against the doorframe. "How am I meant to be feeling?"

"I worry about you, that's all," Snarf called after Lion-O as he turned and left.

As he headed back towards the stairs, he felt a cool breeze on his face. It made him pause and wonder at its origin. He could have sworn that he had not felt it when he came this way earlier. He licked his finger and held it up. The breeze played with his damp fur and he followed its lead along the corridor towards the entrance hall. As the stairs came into view, he could hear the fury of the storm outside and almost smell the rain. When the corridor opened out into the hall, he found it was not his imagination. The main doors had been thrown wide open, long enough for a sizeable puddle to gather on the floor. The wind caught his mane and dashed it across his face as he hurried over and stared out into the grey veils of rain. Away from the dripping walls of the Lair, grasses had been crushed by the weight of water and trees stripped of their leaves by the merciless winds from the north. And, out in the distance, in the midst of the devastation, there was a glimpse of a ghostly figure in white.

Yea gods, Lion-O thought, surely that isn't Cheetara? But someone had opened the doors. Without thinking, he ran from the safety of the Lair out into the storm. Rain lashed his cold body and flattened his mane. Fingers of lightning lit the sky and reached down to touch the earth with fire, making the ground rock beneath his flying feet. He battled on, but not fast enough, for up ahead, he saw the swaying figure crumple and fall. Panic pushed him on until he was sliding to a halt by her side. She lay as she had fallen, still and apparently lifeless. Her skin was cold to his touch as he cradled her in his arms and gently pushed her sodden mane back from her face.

"Cheetara, don't be dead," he begged. "Please come back to me."

At his words, her eyelids flickered and opened. She gazed up at him, but whether those unfocused eyes comprehended what they saw, he was not certain.

"Thank Jaga," he whispered to her. "You're alive. I'll take you back to the Lair."

Her eyes widened slightly and she weakly gripped his arm. "No," she croaked. "I'm so hot."

"Cheetara, you're freezing."

Her hand wandered to the neck of her nightdress and she tugged at it, as if trying to rid herself of the garment. Lion-O stopped her and held her hand tightly.

"You're ill. I have to get you back home."

"So hot," she murmured. Her eyes closed and her grip on his hand fell away. In his arms, she went limp and her head lolled to one side.

He called her name, shaking her a little roughly, anything to bring her back to wakefulness. With no sign that she had heard him, he probed her neck. The light pulse fluttered beneath his fingertips like the soft wings of a butterfly. She was slipping away, and there was nothing he could do. He gathered her up and held her close to his breast while he wet her mane with his tears.

"What's the matter with you, boy?"

The gruff voice intruded into his grief and made him look up. A Tabbot was gazing down imperiously at him from the back of his mule. A gaudy umbrella kept his head dry, although the feather on his hat that peeked out from beneath the protective covering had fallen victim to the foul weather.

"Any reason why you're sitting out in the rain, bawling like a whipped brat?" the Tabbot asked.

"My friend," Lion-O managed to get out. "She's dying. I don't know what to do."

"Struck by lightning, was she?"

"No, she's ill and we don't know what caused it."

The Tabbot blew his nose loudly into a large handkerchief and took a moment to consider its contents. His soaking mount shifted uneasily beneath him and brayed pitifully. "Ill, you say?" the Tabbot said. "Might be that I can help you. It'll cost you, though."

"Please," Lion-O said. "Whatever you ask."

"That pretty sword you're carrying."

"The Sword of Omens?" Lion-O gasped. "No, I--"

"I thought you just said whatever I asked. Well, that's my price."

Lion-O looked from the Tabbot's fleshy face down at Cheetara. She lay so peacefully in his arms that he might have mistaken her condition for sleep. Her life for the Sword of Omens, the source of the Thundercats' power. The price was high. But at that moment, he knew that he would gladly give up everything he possessed, his life if need be, to save her.

"You can have the Sword," he said. "But only if you do help her."

The Tabbot nodded. "Fair enough. You hold onto it until we get to my home. Follow me." He dug his heels into the mule's sides and the creature limped away.

Lion-O trailed behind, trying to keep his footing on the slippery ground. His clumsy gait did not cause Cheetara to stir. She slept on, and he was alarmed to see that her lips were turning blue.

"Hurry," he called. "My friend doesn't have long."

"Not far now," said the Tabbot.

He jerked on the mule's reins and the creature set off at a trot down a track that led deep into the forest. The dank smells of rotting leaves crushed underfoot accompanied their passing and, although protected from the worse of the deluge by the tree cover, large drops of water fell from branches down onto their heads. As what little remained of the grey light was finally lost to the verdant growth overhead, a small hut appeared out of the gloom. A thin plume of smoke rose from a single chimney and the windows glowed with inner light.

Pulling up outside, the Tabbot eased himself off the mule, which then scampered away to its stable. "My humble home," he said, gesturing to the hut. "Come on in." He led the way into a bright, warm interior, rich with the heady smell of wood smoke. The Tabbot pulled the hat from his head and tossed it onto a chair near the fire. With a mighty sweep of his arm, he cleared the table of clutter and indicated that Lion-O should set his charge down. He laid Cheetara gently on the wooden surface and looked up to find that the Tabbot was waiting with hand outstretched.

"Aren't you going to heal her?"

"Business first," said the Tabbot. "Hand it over, boy."

Lion-O took the Sword from his side. A moment of doubt made him hesitate, then he placed it firmly in the Tabbot's hand. "You'll make her better?" he said, as he watched him stow the weapon safely away in a large chest.

"I'll try," said the Tabbot. "It depends on how ill she is and how much energy my healing crystal has." He had removed a small pouch from the chest and was delving into it. A glow emanated from the podgy hand he withdrew and opened to reveal a blue-green globe on his palm. "That's real power, boy," he said, his eyes lit with the sparkling rays from the crystal. "Keep your mystic swords and wands. I'll have this little miracle any day."

He crossed to the table and proceeded to let his hand hover the length of Cheetara's body. By the time he had returned to her head, his brow was deeply furrowed.

"Her condition is critical," he said. "I will not be able to help her. You may have your sword back."

"No, wait!" Lion-O said. "Why can't you help her?"

The Tabbot sighed and shook his head. "Ah, me, it's a sad thing to see a pretty wench like this die, but there's nothing I can do. As I feared, the crystal does not have enough energy."

"Is there any way you can get more energy for it?"

Overly hairy eyebrows rose almost to his bald crown. "One of the first principles of the universe is that energy cannot simply be created, or destroyed for that matter, boy. I can't just 'get more energy', as you put it. It must be drawn into the crystal and then redistributed."

"And where do you get this extra energy?"

"I usually use a little of my own," said the Tabbot. "But your friend's condition is grave. Enough energy for a whole life? No, I would not risk it. It would surely cause my death."

"Then take my energy," said Lion-O.

The Tabbot eyed him with surprise. "The risk--"

"Is worth it. Besides, I am bigger and stronger than you."

"An interesting proposition," the Tabbot mused. "This female means that much to you?"

Lion-O lowered his gaze to Cheetara's face. So beautiful, he thought tenderly. When did you become so dear to me, he wondered, and why have I never realised it until now? "She means everything to me," he said softly. "I... I love her."

"May you survive to tell her that," said the Tabbot. He held out the glowing globe to him. "Take it in your hands. The crystal will do the rest. Having already assessed her condition, it knows how much energy is required."

Taking a deep breath to calm his nerves, Lion-O took the offered globe. There was no fear as he held it in his palm. The memory of the time he gave his strength to Jaga to aid him in his victory over Grune banished any doubts about whether he would come through this to see Cheetara alive again. With a final nod to the Tabbot, he placed his other hand on top of the globe. The sensation was not unpleasant, akin to being tickled with a feather. As it drew deeper of his energy, he began to feel light-headed and yet weary at the same time. The room seemed to have started to sway and he tried to keep up with its merry dance. His legs finally failed and pitched him onto the floor. He sprawled, but still somehow managed to hold onto the globe. It glowed fiercely, its colour changing from blue to mauve and on through the spectrum to crimson as it drank from him. Ever decreasing circles of black crept from the edges of his vision and still he held on. To save Cheetara's life, he would give every last drop of his strength, if needed, he vowed. Whether he lived or died seemed no longer important. The fear of letting her down, that she should die through his failure, was greater now than any regard for his own safety. And, despite the sheer hurt of it and the deafening roar of reason, imploring him to end this torment, still he held on.

Control deserted him and he ended up on his back, looking up at the smoke-blackened rafters. The Tabbot wandered into the line of his rapidly-dimming vision and stared down at him. The smile that twitched the corners of his mouth crept into a grin and grew ever broader until a chuckle issued from his thin lips. Then, to Lion-O's consternation, the swathes of material loosely gathered about his portly body began to disintegrate, revealing blue skin beneath. As demonic laughter rattled the very walls of the stuffy hut, the Tabbot's body melted away until Lion-O found himself staring up in horror at the familiar and unwelcome figure of Mumm-ra.

"Foolish cub!" he boomed. "How easily you have fallen into my trap!"

What remained of his strength yelled at him to do something. But Lion-O found he could neither move nor speak. The globe seemed firmly stuck to his hands and he had not the energy to fight it.

Mumm-ra saw his weak efforts and laughed. "Pathetic," he sneered. "After all our struggles, I expected more. Yet you gave up your precious Sword of Omens and your life without a fight. For what? Love?" He snorted and his eyes began to take on an eerie red glow. "In truth, when I concocted this little plan, I though it would be the Thunderkittens who would fall into my grasp. Instead, to my delight, I get the Lord of the Thundercats." Mumm-ra chuckled and dropped down to kneel at his side. He plucked the globe from Lion-O's hands and regarded it with satisfaction. "I was going to let you die, but how much better that you should live long enough to know the fate that will befall your despicable friends. Especially," he added with relish, as his eyes wandered to the table, "what I intend to do to the love of your life!"

Lion-O tried to speak, but his lips refused to form the words. He could only stare up at his tormentor as the sorcerer's hand came up and hovered over his face. Gentle blue rays drifted down upon him. The remaining fight in his soul was crushed and suddenly sleep seemed like a very good idea. His weary eyelids slowly closed and darkness overwhelmed him.

_How will the Thundercats get out of this one?_

_Find out in Part Two!_


	2. Chapter 2

_**No Greater Love**_

**For Tara**

**Part Two**

Winter, spring, summer or fall, Hook Mountain always appeared the same. Vast mounds of snow covered the frozen earth as far as the eye could see, turning this corner of Third Earth into a bleached-out nothingness. Whatever lay beneath was long hidden. Even the solid mass of Hook Mountain itself was deceptive and its curling cap was capable of breaking away without warning to crush anything that happened to be passing. Such an event had happened recently, for as soon as the Thundertank had come within sight of the curving mountain of snow, Tygra had seen that its upper portion was missing. It had been a safe bet to guess that the meteorite had crashed somewhere nearby.

Several hours had passed since their arrival, long enough for the cold to bite deep into his bones and worry at his injury. The painkiller he had taken had fought a losing battle and his body ached. There was no good reason to remain out here in these snowy wastes, but Panthro was inclined to linger, determined to get to the source of Cheetara's troubles. As Tygra had suspected, the meteorite was nothing more sinister than a molten mass of quartz and carbon, and no more likely to be affecting Cheetara's psychic state than the average piece of coal. At Panthro's insistence, he had run a sample three times through the particle analyser. The result had been the same and still Panthro was not convinced. And so they stayed.

It was a futile waste of time and Tygra had long lost patience. Telling Panthro the error of his ways, however, was easier said than done.

"I'm telling you there's something out here," Panthro insisted. "We have to find it and destroy it if we're gonna have any chance of saving Cheetara."

His latest theory was that something else had landed with the meteorite and it was that which was affecting their fellow Thundercat. Trouble was, it was just a theory. Tygra had tired of running both short and long range scans in the hope of finding this elusive mystery substance. Apart from the meteorite, there was nothing else to be found here. He knew it, the Thunderkittens knew it and it was only Panthro who held onto any slim hope.

"I'm going to signal the Lair," Tygra said, "and tell them we found nothing."

"You stay away from that communicator," Panthro said, stepping in front of him to block his way. "We're not dashing anyone's hopes yet."

"For Jaga's sake, there's nothing here. And for all we know, Cheetara might have recovered."

Panthro regarded him critically. "You don't seriously believe that, do you?"

Tygra shook his head. "Honestly, no. I think she's dying and there's not one blasted thing we can do about it."

A hand came to rest on his shoulder. "Why d'you think I'm out here in this crazy place looking for something I know isn't here?" said Panthro. "I can't stand by and watch her die. I have to _do_ something." His arm dropped uselessly by his side and he sighed. "Call the Lair. See how she is."

Tygra tapped on the glass of the Thundertank's cabin window and two shivering Thunderkittens reluctantly activated the controls to allow him entry.

"You've found something?" WilyKat said hopefully.

"No. I'm just going to find out how Cheetara is." He reached for the communicator, only for the receiving light to flash with urgency. His heart sank. Were they already too late? He opened the channel, took up the remote and moved out of the Thunderkittens' range of hearing.

"Weeow, oh, thank Jaga I've got you," came Snarf's worried babble. "You must come home. It's Cheetara. She's--"

"Yes, Snarf, I think I can guess."

"No, she got out of her bed and went out in the storm. Lion-O followed her. That was ages ago and they still haven't come back. Weeow, Tygra, I don't know what to do."

"Went out?" Tygra echoed. "She recovered?" By this time, Panthro was pressing him for news and he had to fend him off with a wave of his hand. "How was she?"

"I didn't see her. I told you, she left the Lair. Lion-O was looking for her and the next thing I know he's gone too."

Sharp spikes of foreboding lodged in his brain. "All right, Snarf, we're on our way. Tygra, out."

"What's happened?" Panthro asked.

"We've got to get back. Cheetara and Lion-O have gone missing. Snarf thinks they went out in the storm."

"Together?"

"No, Cheetara went first and Lion-O followed." He saw a smile light Panthro's face. "Don't get your hopes up. I'm starting to think you were right all along. There _is_ a sinister influence working on Cheetara, but I doubt it's got anything to do with visitors from outer space. I think it's closer to home."

Panthro struck his fist in his palm. "Mumm-ra! Curse that evil bag o'bones! What's his plan this time?"

"I don't know." Actually, he could think of several possibilities, but putting his fears into words would only make a bad situation worse. "That is, _if_ it is Mumm-ra," he said. "There's plenty of other hostile entities on Third Earth with a grudge against us."

"So what are we looking at?"

"Worse case scenario?" Tygra stroked his chin and considered. "That depends if Lion-O took the Sword with him. I suspect that whatever it was affecting Cheetara called to her and made her leave her bed. If Lion-O was able to discover what it was and defeated it, then they might get home before us. If not…"

"Go on," Panthro urged.

"If not," Tygra said with a sigh, "then Lion-O may be its prisoner."

Panthro snorted. "Don't talk nonsense. He's bright. He'll know what to do."

Tygra gestured to the grey heavens. "He hasn't called for help, has he?"

"Doesn't mean he's in trouble. You know what he's like."

"Yes," he said gravely. "And that's the trouble. Come on, we have to get home as fast as we can."

--o0o0o--

For someone who had the ear of the Ancient Spirits of Evil, it always made Slithe wonder why Mumm-ra chose to live in such a draughty dump. Yes, a pyramid had a certain style, but personally, he would have chosen somewhere bathed in perpetual sunshine, not this barren desert, where the chill ate through him to his bones and dulled his responses. Perhaps, he reflected, as he tramped along the gloomy tunnel that gave entrance to the pyramid's main chamber, that was part of Mumm-ra's plan. Being cold always left him at a disadvantage and more than once he had let himself down in Mumm-ra's presence with some ill-judged remark drawn from his sluggish mind.

Today, however, would be different. Today, he had a hot-water bottle stowed about his person.

Ready to take on whatever Mumm-ra threw at him, he entered the chamber slightly ahead of the other Mutants, feeling confident and slightly cocky. He was a little deflated to find that the mummy was nowhere to be seen. Either they had arrived too early or Mumm-ra intended to keep them waiting, just to remind them where they were. Either way, Slithe was not in the mood to wait.

"Where are you?" he bellowed. His words reverberated around the four walls and fell into mocking silence. "Does he expect us to wait, yesss?" he growled under his breath.

"You know what he's like," said Vultureman. "Probably busy plotting somewhere."

"Then he can do it in his own time. I've better things to do, yesss!"

"But not more important!"

He was halfway back to the entrance tunnel when the voice with its triumphant tones made him pause and glance up in its direction. Through the opening at the apex of the pyramid, Mumm-ra was descending, his cloak spread out behind him like the tattered wings of a bat. In one outstretched hand, he carried a curiously glowing ball, which painted everything red in the immediate vicinity with its eerie rays. As Mumm-ra landed lightly on the raised dais, the ball of light flooded his surrounding with its glow, so that the very fabric of his sarcophagus seemed to be coated with sparkling blood.

"A pretty toy," Slithe sneered. "Did you bring us here to see _that_?"

Mumm-ra's eyes narrowed. "Show a little more respect, Mutant," he said, "for this 'pretty toy', as you call it, will end the Thundercats' despicable reign of goodness upon my planet."

"That thing?" Monkian said incredulously. "Hoo-hoo, I don't believe it."

"It doesn't matter whether you do or not," said Mumm-ra. "Just know that even now are a chain of events set in motion that will destroy the Thundercats. See here!"

From his belt, Mumm-ra drew a bundle, closely wrapped in his shroud bandages. Peeling back the layers, he offered it up for inspection. Behind him, Slithe heard Jackalman's gasp of surprise, followed by Monkian's appreciative hoot. He disregarded them and instead shared Vultureman's quiet cynicism.

"You expect us to believe that's the real Sword of Omens?"

"It is. Lion-O gave it to me himself."

"He did?" Jackalman said. "How? Why?"

Mumm-ra grinned. "Let's say I made him an offer that he could not refuse." He enjoyed some private joke, laughing while he tightened the bandages once more around the blade and hilt. As it disappeared beneath the suffocating cloth, the Eye of Thundera gave a futile growl.

"That's not going to do much good," Slithe said. "All Lion-O has to do is call that wretched Sword to his hand and you'll lose it, Mumm-ra."

"I don't think so. Lion-O has other things on his mind right now. Besides," he said, holding the swathed Sword between his hands as he advanced to his cauldron, "I doubt even the Sword of Omens will be able to answer its master in these evil depths." He tipped the weapon into the seething liquid and it slowly sank beneath the ripples in a hiss of noxious gas.

"Are you serious?" Slithe said suspiciously. "You really defeated Lion-O? What about the others?"

"I will dispose of them at my leisure. That is where you come in."

"Us?" said Monkian. "What can we do?"

Mumm-ra smiled. "Not much, admittedly. But I thought it only fair that my…" He paused and sought the best word for the occasion. "My _allies_ share in my victory. After all, despite your repeated failures, you have been of some use in this conflict."

Slithe narrowed his eyes. "What did you have in mind, Mumm-ra?"

"A suitable reward," he said, with an airy wave of his hand. "A kingdom here on Third Earth, perhaps, with me as supreme ruler of course."

"Of course," Vultureman echoed sardonically. "Isn't this all a little premature, Mumm-ra? We're been here too many times before. What's different now?"

Mumm-ra eyed him with dislike. "Because this time, I intend to let the Thundercats to do nothing and let the Thundercats destroy themselves."

"What?" Slithe roared.

"As will you. That is why I summoned you here today. If you interfere, you will not live to regret it."

Jackalman began to twitter nervously. "Yes, M-m-mumm-ra. We'll keep out of your way."

"I am glad that you see sense, Mutant. For now I have the Thundercats in my very grasp, I will not allow anyone to spoil this opportunity to destroy them once and for all!"

Slithe let the sorcerer's demonic laughter fade before replying. "And you'll do all this by running about with your glowing ball? That's a crazy idea, even for you."

"Not as crazy as it seems," said Mumm-ra, lifting the orb to his eye-level. "With this precious gem, I need do nothing more than will the Thundercats' death and it will happen, although," he added with a smile, "I might put in a personal appearance for the finale."

"He's flipped," Monkian whispered.

"What _is_ that thing you've got there exactly?" Slithe asked, for the moment choosing to ignore Monkian's probably correct analysis of Mumm-ra's current state of mind.

Mumm-ra's attention snapped away from the glowing ball of light and turned instead to the four waiting Mutants. Holding the ball cupped reverently in both hands, he descended the steps of his dais and drew near to where they stood to let them get a closer look.

"This is power beyond imagining," Mumm-ra said in hushed tones. "This is my every desire made reality, for this is the Wish Crystal. Whatever its owner wishes comes true. I have wished the end of the Thundercats and it is happening. Yes, it is happening as we speak!"

He laughed, almost hysterically, throwing back his head and letting his mouth gape wide. It hardly merited such a reaction, as far as Slithe could see. It looked like nothing more than a piece of crystal. He had seen more impressive specimens around the necks of reptilian women and try as he might, his wishes had never come true where they were concerned. And now he was supposed to believe that this was the answer to all their problems? It was too much to swallow.

"How does this crystal of yours work?" he asked.

Mumm-ra looked merely bored. "Didn't I already tell you, Mutant? It grants me my every wish. Now say, for example, I wanted Jackalman to provide me with some entertainment…"

His gaze travelled lazily to the wide-eyed jackal, who immediately threw his hands up in the air and began a graceless dance. Round and round he spun, howling and clapping, whilst his feet failed to keep up with the tempo set by his hands. Slithe was appalled at such an outrageous show of tomfoolery, but Mumm-ra seemed to be enjoying it. Only when he drew his eyes back to the other horrified Mutants was Jackalman restored to normality.

"_Whatever_ I wish," he said slowly. "As for the Thundercats, I took control the she-cat yesterday. I see what she sees. I speak through her. She is mine, body and soul. I gave her friends cause for concern and, while they have been torturing themselves with worry, I made her leave the Lair. Who should follow her but the Lord of the Thundercats?" He gave a snort of laughter. "The cub is a fool. He gave me the Sword of Omens and was ready to give up his life for her. I would have killed him there and then, but I though it would be more fun to let him languish for a while. So I wished for the crystal to make him as weak as it kitten, and it did." He sighed at the fond remembrance. "It sucked the very life out of him and he was _so_ noble. He would not stop even when his own demise was near. Ah, the weakness of the followers of good."

"Now what?" Slithe asked.

"Now we wait. I have left our two Thundercats in the forest for the others to find. Of course they will take their poor friends home and then I will use Cheetara to destroy them."

"Cheetara?" said Vultureman. "Why her? Why not one of the others?"

Mumm-ra smiled knowingly. "Are you familiar with the term, _'potentia'_?"

"Isn't that something to do with bananas?" said Monkian.

"That's potassium, you hairy fool!" Vultureman hissed, eyeing him with contempt.

"_Potentia_ is power and ability, qualities I have detected in this Thundercat," Mumm-ra went on. "A sixth sense, I believe she calls it, and yet it could be so much more. I shall make use of these psychic powers of her to destroy her friends. After all," he added with a sly grin, "who is deadlier than the enemy within the gates?" A moment later, his eye was back on them. "So, are you going to stay out of my way or do I have to make _other_ arrangements?"

He held up the crystal suggestively and waited for their answer. Slithe gulped. What Mumm-ra had done to Jackalman was enough to convince him that he could do much more. Clearly it would not do to upset him while he had that thing in his possession. Perhaps later there would be a chance to steal it from him. Then he would wish that old mummy out of existence.

"We'll do as you say, Mumm-ra," Slithe growled, speaking for his fellow Mutants.

"Excellent. I'm glad you decided to be reasonable about this, Slithe."

"Just don't forget we could have dealt with the Thundercats if we'd had the chance. Remember that when you're doling out your favours."

Mumm-ra smiled grimly. "Oh, no, Mutant. I won't forget. You can count on that!"

--o0o0o--

The communicator sounded its urgent wail, demanding urgent attention, and Tygra took his attention from his immediate surroundings of a humid forest for a moment to open the channel. An excited voice came across the airwaves in a babble that he was forced to interrupt.

"Slow down, WilyKit," he said. "Now take a deep breath and repeat that again."

"I've found them, found them both!" she said. "They're unconscious, both of them."

"Are they injured?"

A short hesitation before she spoke again. "They look all right. They're just asleep. I can't wake them."

"Okay, where are you?" She flashed off her co-ordinates and Tygra quickly noted that he was not far from her present location. "I'll be there in five minutes," he said. "Stay with them. In the meantime, let the Lair know what's happened and see if you can get hold of Panthro. We'll need the Thundertank to get them back home."

A hard run brought him to her quicker than he had expected. She was just stowing her communicator away when he broke into the glade and found her sitting between the prostrate bodies of their friends. A quick inspection confirmed her original diagnosis. Neither seemed physically harmed and both were oblivious to the activity around them. More a cause for concern was the weak pulse he detected in Lion-O's neck. His body felt cooler than was normal and his skin had paled to a sickly pallor.

"Are they gonna be all right?" WilyKit asked anxiously. "Why won't they wake up?"

"I don't know," Tygra said thoughtfully. "Cheetara seems well enough. Lion-O isn't so good, but it's nothing I'm sure we can't take care of back at the Lair." His words were more confident than he felt, but they did the trick. A little of WilyKit's worry evaporated and she managed a strained smile.

"That's good news then," she said. "I did well, didn't I, finding them?"

"Yes, how did you?"

She beamed with pride. "Just instinct. Like Cheetara does."

He suspected there was a little more to it than that. WilyKit had been known to vanish for hours and was always vague about where she had been. If this was where she came to have a little space and time away from everyone, was it just a coincidence that Lion-O and Cheetara should be found here too? Either one of them had followed the kitten at some time and kept the place in mind should they ever need privacy of their own, or…

Or they had been placed here on purpose, knowing WilyKit would come here and stumble across them. The first explanation would have fit had not Snarf told him of what had happened when they both left the Lair. Besides, Cheetara had been ill and running out in her medical gown was hardly appropriate wear for a secret tryst, especially not in the middle of a storm. That left the possibility that this was some sort of elaborate trap.

His train of thought was interrupted by the sudden arrival of the Thundertank. Panthro crashed into the glade in a flurry of leaves and stopped feet away from where they sat. A few seconds later, he was out and hurrying over to join them.

"What's the problem?" he asked. "How are they?"

Tygra patiently repeated what he had been able to gather so far and tactfully suggested that he could find out more when they got home. Panthro took the hint and helped him transfer Cheetara and Lion-O to the Thundertank. Throwing caution to the wind, he then proceeded to break every rule he had made about taxing the tank's engines and got them back to the Lair in record time. Half an hour after finding them, they were safe in the infirmary, being closely monitored and worried over by Snarf.

"My poor boy," he wailed, "I should have never let him go after Cheetara."

It was the tenth time he had made the statement and Tygra found that it was starting to get on his nerves. "Then why did you?" he said tersely.

"I couldn't stop him, could I? Off he went and not a word to old Snarf about it." He sniffed mournfully. "No one tells me anything any more."

Tygra sensed he was subtly fishing for information and pushed aside the temptation to ignore him. "Very well," he said. "What is it you want to know?"

Snarf's gaze moved to the two beds. "Like why you've got Cheetara and Lion-O under medical restraints? Brrr, I don't like it, tying our friends up like that."

"Yes, I think we'd all like to know the reason."

Tygra glanced over his shoulder at the sound of the second voice and saw that Panthro had entered the room. His casual air as he leant up against the doorframe belied the look on his face. Always one to shy away from illness, the fact that he was here now spoke volumes for his concerns.

"A precaution, that's all," said Tygra, turning back to his inspection of the medical monitor.

"Against what?"

"A concern I had."

"Which was?"

This time the question came with the pressure of hand on his shoulder, forcing him to turn around to meet the panther's anxious eyes. Seeing that he would not escape without explaining himself, Tygra sighed and relented.

"Are the kittens about?" he said, nodding to the open door. "I don't want them to hear this."

Panthro relinquished his hold and went to shut the door. That done, he leant his weight against it, ensuring that Tygra had no place to go before he had got the information he wanted.

"Anything strike you as odd when we found Cheetara and Lion-O?" Tygra began.

Panthro shook his head. "Apart from them both being out cold, not much."

"And no visible reason for it," Tygra said. "There were also no footprints. How did they get there if they didn't walk?"

"Now you come to mention it," Panthro said, stroking his chin, "you're right. I saw yours and WilyKit's, but I didn't think anything of it."

"Well, I did. I think they were left there for us to find."

"So we'd bring them back to the Lair and… then what?"

Tygra shook his head. "After that, I don't know. But until we have a better idea of what's going on here, I suggest we keep them both under restraint, just to be on the safe side."

"I agree," said Panthro. "Let's hope for once that you're barking up the wrong tree. By Jaga, we don't want this situation getting any more out of control."

"You mean like the fact that the Sword's missing?" spoke up Snarf.

"What?"

"Weeow, it just occurred to me. Lion-O took it with him and you didn't bring it back, so--"

"Snarf, are you sure?" Tygra demanded.

"Take a look for yourself in the Sword Chamber if you don't believe me."

Panthro was through the door and on his way before Snarf could say another word.

"This is serious, isn't it?" Snarf said weakly. "Weeow, Tygra, what are we gonna do?"

"First, we are going to go back to where we found them, just in case we left the Sword of Omens behind, although I don't think that's likely."

"And if it's not there?"

Tygra looked back to the two sleeping figures. "Pray that Lion-O wakes up and is able to tell us what happened. If he doesn't, Snarf, we could be in very deep water indeed."

--o0o0o--

After too long spent watching the hands of the clock tick away the minutes, Snarf had come to the conclusion that time was passing slower than normal. He knew it was silly, but it seemed like a year since the others had left the Lair to find the Sword of Omens instead of just under an hour. They had already contacted him to let him know that they had not been successful and were on their way home. He had had to tell them that there had been no change in either of the two Thundercats under his care. None of this information made for hopeful prospects and Snarf had sought solace in the fridge.

It was while he was stuffing a particularly juicy piece of candyfruit in his mouth that he heard it. A sound like someone calling his name came faintly to his keen ears. Surely that was impossible, he told himself, unless one of his friends had woken up. With juice still staining his beard, he charged from the kitchen and hurried back to the infirmary. His faith was rewarded by the sight of Cheetara now fully awake, with her head turned towards him and a smile upon her face.

"Snarf, thank Jaga," she said in a voice still weak from her ordeal. "What happened?"

He hopped up on the stool beside her bed and began to gently pat her forehead with a wet cloth. "Weeow, you've not been well, Cheetara," he said. "You passed out and then you woke up and went out in the storm and passed out again and you've been asleep ever since. Don't you remember?"

She frowned in an effort of remembrance. "No, Snarf, I don't. It's all so hazy." The muscles in her arms tensed and she strained against her bonds. "Why am I tied down?"

"For your own safety, so Tygra says."

"Why? I feel better, really. Snarf, can't you release me?"

"I promised Tygra I wouldn't." He glanced down into her pained eyes and felt his stomach lurch. Already uncomfortable with the idea of his friends being tied down, seeing the discomfort it was causing Cheetara was only making things worse.

"I won't do anything," she said. "Please, Snarf, these bonds are so tight. I can't feel my fingers."

"Weeow, that's not so good. I suppose I could release them a little."

He was about to make good his words when he hesitated. Tygra had been adamant that he should not under any circumstances release them. Something about nefarious purposes, Snarf remembered him saying, whatever that meant. But he had to be wrong. This was Cheetara. He knew from the look in her eye and her gentle voice. Was he expected to stand by and watch her suffer? Reaching across, he let out the straps around her wrists and she sighed with relief.

"Thank you, Snarf," she said. "Would you get me some water? I'm so thirsty."

"Of course," he said, jumping down from his stool. "I won't be a minute."

He was back at infirmary in record time, proudly bearing the filled glass. He clambered up beside her and lowered the glass to her lips. She took a few sips, then laid her head back on the pillow with a contented sigh.

"Are you feeling better?" Snarf asked.

"Oh, much," she said, with a smile that did not reach her eyes. "And it's all thanks to you." Suddenly her hand shot up, free of the restraint and grabbed him by the neck.

"Cheetara, what are you doing?" Snarf gasped as he dangled in her grasp.

She laughed at his struggles. "What an obliging little nuisance you are. But you really should have listened to Tygra. I don't think he's going to be very happy with you!"

--o0o0o--

Tygra wandered from the hangar with his stomach in knots. Their search had failed to turn up the Sword of Omens or any sign that it had ever been there. They had been over the area on their hands and knees in case the mud had swallowed up the weapon and still had found nothing. He tried to tell himself that even if Lion-O did not wake soon, that they could manage without it, just as they had done for many years on Thundera. Trouble was, this was Third Earth and Mumm-ra had made the presence of the Sword a necessity.

Whatever depressing thoughts he had were temporary banished by WilyKit's sudden cry from up ahead and he increased his pace to see what had startled the kitten. Entering the main hall, he came skidding to a halt as he saw the reason for her alarm. Snarf was hanging from the railings of the staircase by a rope that had been tied around his tail. He was thrashing about and trying to find something to grab onto without success.

"What the--" said Panthro as he came to a stop beside him. "Snarf, what are you doing up there?"

"He's helping me." The voice was accompanied by the appearance of Cheetara on the upstairs landing as she leant over the banisters to inspect the suspended creature. "Little use that he is."

"Cheetara, you're awake!" said WilyKat. "We were so worried."

"Were you?" she said, arching an eyebrow. Trailing a hand along the railing, she started down the stairs. She had shed the medical gown from the infirmary and had dressed in her more usual clothes. Except, Tygra noted, she had omitted to put on her Thundercat insignia.

"Did you do this?" he said, gesturing to Snarf as he moved forward to meet her at the bottom of the stairs.

She giggled. "Oh, did I do something naughty?" Her gaze turned to Snarf and she eyed him with contempt. "You must forgive my flair for the theatrical. I would have disposed of him sooner, but I do _so_ like to make an impression."

Her words and the tone of voice she used made his skin crawl, leaving him with one startling conclusion. "You aren't Cheetara, are you?"

"Why, Tygra," she said, looking down at him with mock disapproval, "how can you say that? Do I not seem myself?"

"No, you don't. Let Snarf down."

Her eyes narrowed. "Do you really want me to do that? If he fell from that height…" She shuddered. "Think of the mess it would make. Who would clean it up?" She tried to get past him, but he put his hand out and stopped her. "You don't want to do that," she said.

"Who are you?"

Her lip curled. "Back off, Tygra, or I will make you."

For the first time, he seriously doubted his sanity in putting himself in a position where he knew neither what she was capable of nor what she was likely to do. She _was_ Cheetara physically, but the soul that inhabited her body was alien to him. Deciding discretion was the better part of valour, he did as she said and took a step away. That seemed to please her and she processed to the middle of the hall and took in her surroundings with the air of someone fully appreciating them for the first time.

"Quite remarkable," she said, "and to think of the number of times I have sought to destroy this place. How much more comfortable for my home once I have disposed of the current inhabitants. Which brings me to my next question," she said as her gaze came to rest on them, "what am I going to do with you?"

"That depends on who you are," Tygra said. "Mumm-ra, I presume?"

Raucous laughter split the air and echoed off the walls. He descended from the upstairs landing in a flurry of red as he spiralled down to meet them holding in one hand a glowing ball of light. Landing beside Cheetara, he grinned at the assembled Thundercats.

"How clever you are, Tygra," he sneered. "A pity you can't put those brains of ours to better use."

The sight of the ever-living servant of evil made him reach for his bolo whip and draw it ready for battle. "What have you done to Cheetara?" he demanded.

With his free hand, Mumm-ra gave her an affectionate pat on the head. "Nothing she didn't want to do," he said. "She makes a very willing pet, I have found."

"Let her go," growled Panthro.

"Now that would be silly, considering the effort I put into this plan of mine. Have you worked it out yet?"

"You put Cheetara under some sort of spell, lured Lion-O away from the Lair and took the Sword from him."

"Almost correct. Actually, Lion-O _gave _me the Sword to save to life of his darling Cheetara. You also missed out the part where I had Cheetara trick Snarf into releasing her so that we could be waiting for you when you returned."

"And now?" Panthro demanded.

Mumm-ra seemed surprised by the question. "Well, I'm going to have to kill you of course. I thought I'd let Cheetara do it as she's been so helpful to me."

"You can't make her do that," said Tygra. "No matter how strong your spell, everyone has their limits."

"Is that what you think? Then let's put your theory to the test."

Cheetara's eyes took on a shimmering yellow glow that grew from the confines of her body and spilled out like an effervescent wave, filling the air with colour and the distinct smell of static electricity. Suddenly Tygra felt something take a hold of his mind. It happened too fast for him to take action to counter the psychic invasion. Like a closing vice, it tightened its grip, blocking ut logical thought and leaving only an adrenaline-fuelled panic in its wake. Frantically, he scrabbled at his head, trying to free himself of the force that was relentlessly squeezing the life out of him. In the midst of blinding agony, somewhere in the distance, he could hear the groans of his friends and another voice that sounded so unlike his own usual tones. A black film crept into the edges of his vision, warning him that collapse was imminent. Then, as suddenly as it had come, the force fell away.

Sense after sense slowly returned and he found that, along with Panthro and the Thunderkittens, he had somehow ended up on the floor, panting for breath, unsure whether he was dead or alive. Only when he realised that he hurt too much did he know that he had somehow survived.

"I think that answers your question," said Mumm-ra in answer to the demanding glare he sent in his direction. "Had I not stopped Cheetara, you would be dead."

"Why _did _you stop her?" Tygra said as loudly as he could manage. "I thought that's what you always wanted, us out of your way."

Mumm-ra clicked his tongue disapprovingly. "Be patient, my feline friend. I would not let you go so easily. Believe me when I say that I have waited a long time for this. Now I intend to savour every glorious moment of your defeat!"

_Is the end for the Thundercats?_

_Will Cheetara really destroy her friends?_

_Find out in Part Three!_


	3. Chapter 3

_**No Greater Love**_

**For Tara**

**Part Three**

The stone floor was no respecter of age or general health. Had he had more time to prepare, he could have made an attempt to land on his feet. Instead, he fell awkwardly on his side and felt pangs of outrage from his ribs. Just to add insult to further injury, something heavy and Snarf-shaped landed squarely on top of him. He closed his eyes and gritted his teeth as his nerves lit a fire in his side.

"Damn Mutants," he heard Panthro mutter. "Just you wait, Monkian!"

The ape's reply came as a laugh. Metal scraped against stone and Tygra opened his eyes in time to see a heavily barred door being lifted. It was dropped into place with an ear-splitting clang that bounced off the close walls of their pit until finally fading to blessed nothingness. Retreating footsteps and the gradual encroachment of darkness told of Monkian's departure with the only major light source in this gloomy place. The faint glow from luminescent spiders scuttling up and down the wall was enough for Tygra to make out Panthro's shape on the other side of the pit. He was stooped as though inspecting something. Squinting into the darkness, he could just about discern the huddled shape of another person.

"Panthro," he said, surprising himself by the weakness of his voice. "Who is it?"

"Weeow, it's not someone nasty, is it?" worried Snarf. "That's all we need!"

"No," said Panthro, "I think it's Lion-O." He took the figure under the arms and dragged him over to where Tygra sat. "Yes, I was right," he said, letting him get a closer look.

"I expected as much," said Tygra. "They could hardly leave him in the Lair. How is he?"

"Can't you tell?"

"I can't move, let alone do anything else."

Even with his features veiled in darkness, Tygra could feel the concern radiating from the panther. "That injury of yours giving you trouble?"

"Slightly. It'll pass."

"Damn Mutants," Panthro reiterated, adding a growl for emphasis. "Wait till I get my hands on them."

As much as it pained him to admit it, Tygra felt tempted to add that giving Slithe and his cronies a little of their own medicine for their rough treatment when they had gleefully dragged them to this pit and pushed them in was probably wishful thinking. Escape seemed hopeless. The door of their prison was a good ten feet out of reach. With his whip, he might have had a chance, but the Mutants had taken that as soon as they laid hands on him. They were not taking any risks that their prisoners might get away.

That said, the fact they had left Lion-O here with them spoke of their confidence that he would be of no use. Wincing from the effort and strain, Tygra reached out to check his vital signs. To his relief, Lion-O was breathing and his pulse had strengthened. Perhaps the Mutants should not have been so quick to think the Thundercats defeated.

"See if you can wake him," Tygra said. "Snarf, help Panthro."

The little creature hurried to do what he did best. He purred and cooed over Lion-O, gently shaking him and urging him awake, until a low moan heralded his return to consciousness.

"That's my boy," said Snarf, patting his charge's head. "How are you feeling?"

"So tired," came a thin voice from the darkness. "What... happened?"

"We were kinda hoping you could tell us," said Panthro. He helped Lion-O up into a sitting position and propped him up against the wall beside Tygra. "If we tell you what's happened to us, then perhaps you'll remember. Well, Mumm-ra's got Cheetara under his control and we're..." Panthro glanced about him at his dismal surroundings. "We're in a hole, that's what we are."

"Literally," Snarf agreed. "Weeow, it's all my fault. I should never have released Cheetara."

"No, Snarf, you shouldn't."

"Although," said Tygra, "I suspect Mumm-ra would have found a way. We would have had to untie her eventually. Sooner or later, it would have happened."

That seemed to console Snarf a little. "Still feels like my fault though, snarf, snarf," he lamented. "And now we're stuck here."

"No problem," said Panthro, his tone reflecting the smile that the darkness hid. "Lion-O can call the Sword to him and we'll be out of here in no time at all."

"The Sword," Lion-O murmured faintly. "I remember. I gave it to... to a Tabbot." His voice rose a pitch as he took a securer hold on his memories. "Only it wasn't a Tabbot. It was Mumm-ra in disguise. He said he could help Cheetara if I gave him the Sword as payment." He paused, realising the enormity of what he was saying. "I guess I wasn't thinking straight."

"Something like that," Tygra said. Clearly, Lion-O had not been paying attention when he had given him those few sage words of advice about not allowing his emotions to cloud his judgement. "At least you're back with us, that's the main thing. What did Mumm-ra do to you?"

Lion-O swallowed heavily. "He said he needed my energy to save Cheetara. He gave me some sort of crystal to hold. I remember feeling so weak, but I knew I couldn't let go. I had to help her."

"Was it like a globe?"

"Yes, blue-green in colour, although it gradually changed as it took my energy."

"Mumm-ra had something like that with him when we saw him in the Lair. I wonder..."

"Wonder what?" asked Panthro.

"Whether this crystal orb Mumm-ra has is the reason why he was able to obtain control of Cheetara and give us so much grief," said Tygra.

"You think it's magnifying his powers?"

"Or giving him new ones. Either way, if we could get that off him, we might be able to wrest Cheetara from his grasp."

Panthro grunted. "Good plan. One problem - how do we get out of here?"

"Lion-O, do you feel strong enough to call the Sword of Omens?"

"I'll try. Panthro, could you lift my arm for me?"

Panthro obediently shifted over to him and did as he asked. In a voice not much above a whisper, Lion-O called the Sword to his hand. With ears straining in the darkness for the anticipated whistle of air as it approached, they waited and as the seconds ticked by, Tygra finally put into words the uncomfortable truth.

"It isn't coming. Mumm-ra must have incapacitated it somehow."

"I'm sorry," said Lion-O.

"Never you mind," said Panthro, releasing his arm and patting his shoulder. "We'll work something out. You sit there and rest. I'm going to have a talk to Tygra." The sound of his feet scuffing the floor was the only indication that he was on the move until a moment later when he came to rest by Tygra's side. "Well?" he said, lowering his voice.

"No, not really."

"I mean, our situation."

"Not promising either. I'm injured, Lion-O's too weak, Snarf's too small--"

"I am not!" the little creature said indignantly. "There's lots of things I can do, snarf, snarf!"

"To reach the bars, I mean," Tygra went on. "If we want to get out of here, we'll have to rely on good, old-fashioned cunning."

Panthro rubbed his hands together. "That's better. You had me worried there for a moment. I thought we really were in trouble."

"We _are_."

"I know. By Jaga, I hope WilyKit and WilyKat are all right. We've been in these sort of situations before, but I bet they're frightened."

"Poor little mites," said Snarf. "Why did they have to separate us?"

"They call it divide and conquer, Snarf," said Tygra. "Besides, the kittens are useful to them. It's us older cats who have outstayed our welcome."

Snarf gulped. "Weeow, I was worried about that. What will they do to us?"

Panthro's silence meant he did not want to answer that one. As usual, he had left it to Tygra to come up with something. "Imagine the worst case scenario," he said with a sigh, "then multiply it. That give you some idea?" Snarf made a distinctly anxious noise. "Good. Now, let's think about finding us way out."

A chance presented itself sooner than expected, for the rising light levels were soon accompanied by the pad of heavy footsteps and it was not long before Slithe's grinning face was staring down at them.

"What do you want, Slithe?" Panthro demanded, getting to his feet.

The reptilian chuckled. "Just making sure you are _un_comfortable, Thundercatsss," he sneered.

"Very, thanks for the concern. Now get lost."

The smirk dropped from his face. "Still arrogant, aren't you, Panthro? I can't wait to see your face when you find out what Mumm-ra is going to do to you and your disgusting friends."

"Bring it on!" Panthro growled.

"Help me up," Tygra whispered. "I've got an idea." Up on his feet, the pain from his side was infinitely worse. Certainly, Panthro's idea of help had been a little rough. Forcing down the discomfort, Tygra peered up at the leering Mutant. "What are you getting out of this, Slithe?"

A globule of spit fell from his mouth as he licked his lips and splattered on the grimy floor. "You out of the way, for a start."

"And then?"

"Mumm-ra has promised us kingdoms."

Tygra smiled to himself. Slithe had paused momentarily before replying. There was doubt there that needed exploiting.

"Do you believe him?"

Slithe's eyes narrowed a fraction.

"You don't then."

"Never you mind, Thundercat," Slithe growled. "Worry about yourselves before you concern those empty heads of yours with my problems, yes."

He drew away, but Tygra's next words kept him from going too far.

"You know what they say, Slithe. A problem shared is a problem halved."

His livid green face came back into view. "What are you getting at, Tygra?"

"I think we both know that once we are out of the way, you'll be next. You'll be of no use to Mumm-ra when we're gone. Your kingdoms will be six feet below the earth, Slithe."

The Mutant stared at him for a long time, then exhaled slowly. "You think I haven't already thought of that," he murmured. "With that Wish Crystal of his, Mumm-ra is unstoppable."

Tygra exchanged glances with Panthro. "Is that how he got control of Cheetara?"

Slithe nodded. "He's going to use her to destroy you. Can she really do that?"

"I don't know. I guess we're going to find out."

"Damn Thundercats and your special abilities. Why can't you be normal like everyone else?"

"Would it be any fun if we were?" said Panthro. "Come on, Slithe. We might be enemies, but do you really wanna end up on Mumm-ra's hit list? Now he's got this new power, who knows where he's gonna stop. There's an old Thunderian saying, better the devil you know."

Slithe scowled. "You expect me to help you? I would rather rot in the putrid slime of the fog pits of the Darkling Moon for all eternity, yes."

"I'm sure Mumm-ra can arrange that for you."

"Mutants of Plun-darr can look after themselves."

"Why take that risk?" Tygra said. "Why not let us deal with Mumm-ra? All you have to do is free us."

Slithe's lips pulled into a broad grin. "If you're so clever, Thundercat, why don't you get out yourself?"

With a throaty laugh, he pulled back out of sight and his feet could soon be heard shuffling away.

"Damn!" Tygra swore. "I was sure we had him. Damn it all!"

"Language," Snarf chided.

"Sorry, it's how I feel. It's one accursed setback after another."

"Something will turn up," said Lion-O. "I'm sure of it."

"Oh? What makes you so confident?"

With a grunt of effort, he pushed himself up to his feet. "For a start, I'm feeling much better." He smiled, only for his knees to buckle and deposit him back on the floor. "Well, I thought I was. Even so…"

Panthro hissed and put a finger to his lips. In the silence, footsteps could be heard coming nearer to their prison. There was a moment's pause and then something rattled through the bars and hit Panthro on the head.

"For Jaga's sake," he said, rubbing a sore patch on his scalp. "How unlucky is that?"

"Not much," said Snarf. He had found the thing that had been dropped on them and was holding it out for Tygra to take. "This is your bolo whip, I think."

Tygra took it from and smiled up at the darkness. "Well, well, thank you, Slithe. Seems he doesn't mind us risking our necks after all." A flick of his wrist brought the lash curling out and snaking around the bars above them. "Snarf, shin up there and see if there's a lock or anything on that door."

"Weeow, me up there?" he grumbled. "You know I don't like heights."

"Quicker you get up there," said Panthro, grabbing him around the middle and hoisting him up, "the quicker it gets done."

Snarf caught the dangling lash halfway up and, grumbling all the way, climbed up to the bars. Sticking his hand through an opening, he felt about for a while and then, with a cry of triumph, he found the bolt. It slid back with a squeal of protest that sounded deafening in the silence and came to rest with a clang against its stop.

"Now what?" said Snarf, landing in Panthro's waiting arms.

"Now all we have to do is open it." Which seemed to be easier said than done. Lion-O, despite his assurances, was in no fit state for such a venture and Panthro had not the reach to do it alone. "Right, I'll get up on Panthro's shoulders and see what I can do."

Panthro raised one eyebrow and gave him a dubious look. "And your side?"

"I'll manage. Just get me up there."

Even with the added height, it was still a strain to reach the bars. Trying to avoid further damage to his injury as much as he could, he pushed with his one good arm. The door lifted a little, then thudded back into place. It was obvious that only a supreme effort and a lot of pain were going to get them out. Taking a deep breath, he raised both arms to the door, immediately feeling the twinge from his injury grow into an ache. He pushed and the ache became a burning brand that left not one part of his body untouched. The door fell back with a resounding crash and he dropped from Panthro's shoulders to be promptly sick in the corner.

"Nice work," said Panthro, rubbing him on the back to ease his pain-induced nausea. "You all right?"

"Will it help us if I'm not?" he said, wiping a trail of saliva from his lips. "Come on, let's get out here, so I can go home and take to my bed."

Panthro grinned, tempering his concern with relief. "Right, who's first?"

His eye fell on Snarf. The little creature backed away, his hands raised in protest. Panthro plucked him from the floor and with a heave tossed him through the opening. From the darkness came a heartfelt cry as he hit solid ground. A moment later, his face appeared above them.

"Tie Tygra's whip to something firm so we can climb up," Panthro ordered.

Snarf disappeared and the loose end of the whip jerked about until a voice confirmed that it was safe for them to come up.

"I'll go first," said Panthro, "then I'll haul you both up."

He shinned up without breaking sweat and waited above for Tygra to secure the lash around Lion-O's waist. When he too had been taken up, the free end was dropped down and Panthro called down for him to stop wasting time and get a move on.

With a sinking feeling that this was going to hurt more than his previous endeavours, he made a loop in the lash and put his foot into it. The journey upwards was jerky and did nasty things to his already aching side. It was with considerable relief when his head emerged into the muted light of the dungeon and he was able to put his feet to the floor again.

"Which way now?" said Snarf.

"There's the door," said Tygra, pointing to the crack of light emerging from one side of the heavy wooden doorframe. "Slithe left it open for us."

"Remind me to thank him personally one day," Panthro grunted. "If we live that long." He took Lion-O's arm and placed it around his own shoulders. "Lead on, Tygra."

With whip in hand, he cautiously looked out into an equally dingy corridor. Certain that they were alone, he gestured for Panthro to follow. Along a passageway that crunched underfoot, he offered silent thanks that it was too dark for him to see what he was walking on and hurried to the faint glow he could see in the distance. Another corridor, this one more brightly lit, led away in two directions. He fought to remember which direction they had been brought and was sure it was the left-hand one when he caught a sound coming from the other. Someone laughing, a deep, hearty chuckle, that was very familiar.

"That way," he said, gesturing in the direction from which the sound emanated. "That's where Mumm-ra is."

Snarf purred with concern. "And that's where we want to be? Are you sure?"

"If we can get the Wish Crystal away from him, he will no longer be able to control Cheetara."

"And if we can't?" said Lion-O.

Tygra looked at Panthro, reading there the same conclusion he had reached some time ago. "Losses may be inevitable."

"Meaning us?"

"Or Cheetara."

"No," Lion-O protested. "We have to save her."

"If we can't? Personally, I don't think her powers are great enough to destroy us all."

"Could have fooled me," said Panthro. "She was pretty convincing back at the Lair."

"But she didn't kill us, did she? Mumm-ra said he stopped her. That doesn't make any sense. Why not just kill us there and then? As long as we live, we constitute a threat. I think he knew she had reached the limit of her abilities and stopped her rather than lose her at that time."

Panthro's eyes narrowed. "So, you're saying if he pushes her, she could die."

Tygra sighed. "I'm hoping we don't have to find out. But if it comes to that, we must stick together and accept whatever happens."

"No!" Lion-O reiterated. "I won't stand by and let her die just to save ourselves."

"Which is why we are going to try our best to get the Wish Crystal from Mumm-ra before he is able to use her against us. None of us want anything to happen to Cheetara. But I know, and so do you, that she would rather die than hurt any of us. It might happen. Let's hope not."

Before Lion-O could recommence his protests, Tygra started away down the corridor in the direction of the laughter. As he had expected, the passage led out into the central chamber of the pyramid. Although its evil inhabitant could be heard, for the moment he was not in sight. What could be seen was a cage suspended some feet over the bubbling waters of the cauldron and an unhappy-looking WilyKit and WilyKat trapped within.

"What's the plan?" Panthro whispered.

"We walk right up to that old pile of bones and make him give us that crystal thingy!" Snarf declared, balling his fists in anticipation of a fight.

"Or I could make myself invisible and take it from him when he's not looking," said Tygra. "Let's keep things as simple as possible."

Snarf looked slightly crestfallen, but nodded in acceptance.

"If you want to make yourself useful, you could see if you can find a way to get the Thunderkittens out of there."

"I'll handle that," said Panthro, taking Lion-O's arm away from his shoulders and helping him to support himself up against the nearest wall.

"Give me a minute to get the Wish Crystal first," said Tygra. "Let's not give Mumm-ra too many alerts to our presence."

His whip rose up at the merest gesture of his hand and curled itself around his body. The familiar wash of invisibility settled over him like a old and much loved coat. Less offensive than a defensive power, within its embrace he always felt just a little invulnerable. Too safe sometimes, he told himself, remembering how the Mutants had been able to detect his invisible form in their moat to lead him into a watery trap. Nevertheless, it should serve well enough now. Mumm-ra thought he had the Thundercats safely contained, but he had reckoned without Slithe's suspicions.

He crept out into the wide space of the burial vault, reminding himself every time another peel of laughter rang out from its unseen inhabitant that it was not directed at him for Mumm-ra had yet to penetrate his light-bending disguise. Only the waters of the cauldron seemed to know him, bubbling in indignant fury when he passed too close. In their cage above, WilyKit and WilyKat noticed the turmoil and exchanged worried looks. Tygra wished he could have given them a little reassurance that help was at hand. Soon, he promised himself, as soon as he got that infernal crystal out of Mumm-ra's clutches.

Still, it puzzled him that he had not yet managed to catch a glimpse of the decayed sorcerer. The sarcophagus lid had been pushed to one side, revealing an empty tomb, and the laughter that told of Mumm-ra's wakefulness seemed to come from every direction all at once and was no help. The impression was starting to grow that he was less the hunter than the hunted. Once that suspicion took root, his mind began to play tricks on him. Shadows moved and took on the faces of demons. A flash of colour moved on the periphery of his vision. His heart took up permanent residence in his mouth and hammered hot blood loudly in his ears.

Taking a moment to steel himself, he rested up against one of the towering beast-topped obelisks. The stone was icy cold and damp to his touch, although he thought he detected a regular thud like the pulse of a beating heart deep within the stone. Repulsed, he drew away and in his haste bumped into something softer and less solid. He turned quickly and found himself looking at Cheetara. Silent stupefaction kept him rooted to the spot, staring into eyes now stripped of the warmth he remembered or the glow of a friendship cherished. Although still invisible, he felt that she reciprocated his gaze, defying him to break contact until the chill that was spreading from his stomach reached his heart and made him shiver. In that instant, he felt his control weaken. The whip fell from his shoulders and he was seen once more.

"All too easy," came Mumm-ra's throaty tones, followed a second later by the appearance of the sorcerer himself, stepping casually out from behind the opposite obelisks. In his hands, he cradled the lilac-glowing crystal with as much reverence as if it had been his very soul. "You kept us waiting, but now you are here, we will take great pleasure in sending you to your doom!" he crowed.

Tygra caught his breath. "You were expecting me?"

"Of course. You think I would trust those Mutants to do anything right? Stupid curs they might be, but I am not so foolish as to not credit them with some intelligence. I knew they had their suspicions about my motives and so I kept a careful watch on you." A more thoughtful expression came over his face. "I never thought Slithe would be the first to weaken. Ah, well, it matters not. After I had dealt with you, they were going to be next anyway. I'll just have to rearrange the order of their deaths. Treachery, I think, should always be rewarded with preferential treatment."

He laughed, this time more outrageous in its extremes as it echoed loudly around them. While Mumm-ra's attention was diverted, Tygra glanced at the corridor where he had left Panthro, Lion-O and Snarf. There seemed to be no sign of them. Not a bad thing, he thought, as the element of surprise had been lost from that quarter.

Mumm-ra's amusement abruptly ended. "You're looking for your friends?" he asked, almost genuinely curious. "Shall I save you the trouble?" The glow from the crystal intensified and a second later, three bemused Thundercats had joined them. "So good of you to join us," he said.

"What the--" Panthro began, glancing around him in surprise. "How did we get here?"

"I wished it and so it was." Mumm-ra held the crystal aloft. "Just as now I wish your deaths. Cheetara, teach Panthro and Tygra a lesson they'll never forget!"

Barely had a protest formed on Tygra's lips than a mighty unseen hand slapped him down and forced him to his knees. Fingers tightened around his skull and pressed through the thin defence of bone until they made contact with soft tissue. He was cut adrift from reality, aware only dimly of the cries of anguish and entreaties from his remaining friends. He spiralled on a sea of fading crimson light that reflected his own fragile link to life as section by section of his brain was shut down. From a distance, devoid of the agonies his body was experiencing, it was perversely fascinating to watch, and from a distance, he saw everything begin to change.

In retrospect, he knew he must have opened his eyes at that moment, for a image of Snarf hurling himself at Cheetara and latching sharp teeth onto her shoulder flooded the scarlet pool of his existence. Her concentration wavered long enough for her to pluck him off and hurl him away. Snarf crashed into the unyielding stone surface of an obelisk with a bone-shattering crunch and slid down it to lie unmoving at its bottom. Then came a yell born of such rage that in his cocoon, Tygra shuddered and feared its consequences. He forced himself to look and saw Lion-O feebly trying to wrest the crystal from Mumm-ra's hand. He was easily batted away, but then came other hands, clawed and hairy, all struggling to claim the glowing source of Mumm-ra's power.

_Fools!_

Tygra heard the word echo around the tatters of his mind and fought to identify the speaker. Himself? That seemed unlikely, given his condition. Only when the voice came again did he know who spoke their doom.

"Cheetara!" Mumm-ra roared. "Kill them, kill them all!"

A faint protest rose in his exhausted soul. Mumm-ra was angry and not thinking. What he had told Cheetara to do Tygra was certain would mean her death long before theirs. Her grip on her psychic powers had always been tenuous at best and prolonged use drained her completely. The strain of trying to subdue eight, possibly ten subjects, he knew was beyond her capabilities.

Sure enough, he felt a surge in his crimson world and the light intensified to the point where it seemed to be invading every orifice of his body. Then, as abruptly as it commenced its attack, it drew back to sulk on the very fringes of his consciousness. With the opening of his eyes, it was gone. And so was Cheetara.

She was swaying, her knees buckling, the startling light of her psychic powers crushed forever in her dulled eyes. Blood was leaving red trails down her cheeks as it trickled from her ears and nose. He watched, feeling helpless, feeling no satisfaction in being right, and saw his friend die. She fell into an untidy heap on the dusty floor and moved no more.

This was no time for grief. Mumm-ra was stunned by his mistake and stood staring down at Cheetara as though he expected her to rise and end this trick she was playing on him. All around were small groans and the crumpled figures of his intended victims, each too wrapped up in their own pain to see what had happened to their executioner.

All, except Lion-O. Tygra caught his eye and saw there grief greater than all the despair of a dying world, lost forever as so much space dust. The thousands that had died on Thundera had mostly been anonymous; this loss, however, was much more immediate and brought forth tears that cut a silvery course down his cheeks. Tygra grieved for him, realising for the first time the depth of their young lord's feelings, and grieved for himself, for the friend he had lost. Tears he too could have shed, but they would have to wait. There was still time to rescue their lives from this mess.

His whip lay where he had dropped it, well within reach. Mumm-ra was starting to recover, but not quickly enough to see Tygra take up his weapon. The tri-balled end of the lash sang out and wrapped around the sorcerer's wrist. The shock made Mumm-ra loosen his grip on the Wish Crystal he still held and it fell from his open fingers. It hit the stone floor with a resounding crack and a fissure opened up in one of its faceted sides. Light, the colour of faded lavender, started to spill from it, turning to sand as it came into contact with the air.

With a howl, Mumm-ra reached for it, but Lion-O was closer. He took the damaged orb into his hands and glared at Mumm-ra.

"It's mine now," he growled. "And I wish, I wish that you would go a place from where you will never return to plague us again!"

The look of horror grew on Mumm-ra's face until his lips were peeled back in a grimace and his eyes were lit with panic. A silver aura had appeared around him and he tried to fight it with his bare hands. The aura closed in on him, shrinking him as it went, until the ever-living servant of evil was the size of an ant. Then, with a flash that left a small smoke trail in its wake, the aura collapsed in on itself and Mumm-ra was gone.

Lion-O stared at the place where he had been and, then, breathing hard, turned his gaze back to Cheetara. "Do you think…?" he said, offering up the orb for inspection. "Could it heal her again?"

His hands were filling with sand from the dying crystal. Tygra gave him a doubtful look. "Make what wishes you want while you still can. But, Lion-O, remember the living before the dead."

Lion-O swallowed hard and nodded. He looked over at the still form of Snarf and pressed his fingers tightly around the orb.

"I wish Snarf was well," he said, his words tumbling over themselves. "I wish the Sword of Omens was returned to us. I wish--"

His words turned to an anguished gasp. For while Snarf had sat up, shaking his head in confusion, and the Sword of Omens had exploded from the depths of Mumm-ra's cauldron of evil, the Wish Crystal was now fading fast as it drew on the last of its power. Lion-O dragged himself over to Cheetara and cradled her head in one hand while bringing the crystal closer to her breast with the other.

"I wish Cheetara was restored to us," he said, studying her face intently for any sign of her return to life. His gaze shifted to Tygra. "Nothing's happened."

"The Wish Crystal is almost gone," Tygra said, gesturing to the sand that trickled from between Lion-O's fingers onto Cheetara's chest. "It doesn't have the power to heal her."

The furrows in Lion-O's brow slowly disappeared. "Because energy can't just be created," he said, in the voice of someone finally awake to a revelation. "It has to come from somewhere!"

Tygra was a little taken aback by the earnestness of his words. Lion-O was a disinterested student when it came to the finer points of physics, but clearly he had been paying attention to some of their lessons. Barely had he a chance to recover from this surprise than the enormity of what Lion-O was considering struck him.

"No, Lion-O, you mustn't!" he cried, trying to get his aching legs to obey him. Whatever Cheetara had done to him had robbed him of all feeling below his waist when he had first returned to consciousness. Now, however, as blood flowed back into his veins, the uncomfortable tingle of pins and needles made him unsteady. He dragged himself over to Cheetara, arm outstretched to stop Lion-O, but he was too late.

"I wish," Lion-O was saying in a calm, even voice, "that I could give my life to save Cheetara."

Tygra watched in growing dismay as Lion-O's eyes rolled up into his head and the fading crystal flared into life, glowing blood red as it drained the life from one to give to another, obeying the unwavering law of the universe that energy could not be created or destroyed. Slowly, even as Tygra inched closer to him, Lion-O grew limp and collapsed beside Cheetara. The orb rolled from his hand and ended up between them, where its light flickered and finally died. The crack in its side grew larger until the shell of the crystal split in two.

Tygra picked up one half only for the thin shell to turn to sand in his hand. A draught took it and carried it across his two still friends, where it brushed their bodies with a thin layer of shimmering dust. The Wish Crystal was no more, but had it managed to fulfil the wish of its last master?

Cheetara's eyes still stared unseeing at the darkened apex of the pyramid. He probed her neck and pressed deep into the tight knot of muscles and blood vessels to detect a pulse. His searching fingers found nothing, until he caught the faintest sound of a breath escaping her lips. Beneath his fingertips, blood flowed again and her chest rose and fell. Her eyes came back into focus and fixed on him.

"Tygra?"

He nodded. "Yes, Cheetara, it's me."

"Where are we?"

"Mumm-ra's Pyramid. Do you remember what happened?"

She blinked in an effort of remembrance and shook her head. Sitting up, she put one hand gingerly to her brow and groaned. "I have a terrible headache though. Is that something to do with it?"

Sounds of consternation came from the Mutants' direction at seeing Cheetara alive and upright. Despite their aches, Slithe led his cronies out of her immediate range at a gallop worthy of a forest unicorn. Only when they had gone did Cheetara look back at Tygra. Her gaze fell upon Lion-O, lying still at her side, and she gasped.

"What happened to him?" she asked. "Is he all right?"

"Cheetara," Tygra said gently, reaching out to her, "Lion-O gave his life to save yours."

"No!" she screamed. "That isn't true. Say it isn't true."

She turned eyes on him that implored him to tell her otherwise. He could not. "I'm sorry."

"Why didn't you stop him?"

"I tried. I couldn't. He was too far away."

In her anguish, her hands went to her head and she thumped her temples. "Why, why did he do it? What happened to me!" Her eyes grew wide as memory returned. "By Thundera," she whispered, "did I really do all that?"

"I'm afraid so."

She stared at her hands. "I have such power inside me? I never knew. Maybe then…" She paused. "Maybe I can put right the harm I have done."

Before he could stop her, she had placed both her palms either side of Lion-O's head. Her eyes closed and her breathing deepened. Unsure what to do, but certain that pulling her away from him would do more harm than good, Tygra watched her as closely, willing whatever she was doing to succeed. Finally, her mouth dropped open and her head lolled back. He was ready to catch her when she fell senseless into his arms.

"What now?" asked Panthro, from where he sat at the foot of an obelisk, nursing an aching head.

Snarf scampered over and pressed his ear to Lion-O's chest. "He's alive," he declared. "Praise all the ancestors. My little boy is going to be all right."

"Thanks to Cheetara. How did she do that?"

Tygra glanced down at her. "I don't know."

"But she's gonna be all right, isn't she?"

"Good question," he replied with a sigh. "How does 'I hope so' sound?"

He adjusted her weight in his arms and gazed down at her face. She seemed peaceful now, stripped of the strain that had driven her to psychic collapse before. Whatever she had done, she had probably saved Lion-O's life. But at what cost to herself? He knew that was a question only time could answer.

_Is Lion-O doomed to be parted from Cheetara forever?_

_Find out in Part Four!_


	4. Chapter 4

_**No Greater Love**_

**For Tara**

**Part Four**

He awoke to darkness. As unctuous as the oil Panthro used to lubricate the Thundertank's engine, as inky as the writing fluid extracted from the belly of the squid by the Tuskas, as suffocating as being wrapped head to toe in bandages. Like that demon, who took delight in torturing them, who had taken Cheetara from him. Like Mumm-ra.

He awoke and this time his eyes opened to the brightness of the infirmary, not the nightmare of his imagination. He lay back on the soft pillows, breathing hard, and letting the rush of blood cease its frenetic pounding through his veins. Then, with calmness came the realisation that much had changed since he was last conscious.

Being home meant that they had escaped Mumm-ra's clutches. He remembered the smell of decay about the place, the feel of grime beneath his hands in a pit with a cage door above, the tightness of a lash that was fixed around his waist to pull him out of the hole and the great despondency that shook his soul when he was told that Cheetara might die. And then more memories came skulking back and he remembered. Cheetara _had_ died. He had watched the light fade in her eyes and seen her fall lifeless to the ground. He remembered taking that infernal crystal in his hands and wishing Mumm-ra to a place from which he might never return. Then, going to Cheetara and wishing her back to life with magic that itself was dying. He remembered knowing what he had to do and the quiet acceptance of his fate that had settled over him as he had said the words and seen Tygra desperately trying to stop him. The weakness that had made him sluggish and demanded that Panthro help him every inch of the way from their prison had intensified to the point where he no longer had the strength even to think. At that point, he supposed he had lost consciousness.

Then what, he wondered. Somehow the other Thundercats had managed to get him out of the Pyramid and bring him home. But what of Cheetara? He had not expected to survive the transference of his energy to her to save her life. He had thought to open his eyes to an afterlife on the Astral Plane, with Jaga chiding him for his foolishness in throwing away his life so carelessly. Instead, he was alive. The terrible thought gripped him that Cheetara now languished on the other side of that ghostly divide. Had his fight to save her been in vain?

He sat up, feeling the tug of exhaustion willing his tired body to remain where it was. He gritted his teeth and worked through it. With a groan that he felt from his nose to his toes, weary muscles grudgingly responded to the mastery of the mind. He made it off the bed, only to find that further progress was impeded by the syringe that was causing an ache in his arm where it was being shifted around by his efforts. He pulled it free, bringing with it a trickle of blood that wended its way down to his wrist. The injection site hurt, but not as much as the fear that had tightened itself around his insides and had set his mind reeling.

He had to find out what had happened to Cheetara. He had to find out now.

Shakily, step by painful step, he made his way to the door and looked out into an empty corridor. The overhead lamps were on, but since the depth of infirmary inside the Lair made lights a necessity, he was none the wiser whether it was day or night. The tempting smells of cooking that were drifting in his direction and making his stomach rumble at least gave him some sense of time. It was dinner, or perhaps it was breakfast, or even lunch. With a shake of his head, he decided there was little point in wasting effort trying to come to a decision when he would find out soon enough for himself.

Using the wall as a support, he inched his way along, having to pause every few paces to get his breath. Only the need to know kept him going. Without that, he knew he would have collapsed in a useless heap on the floor.

Help came with two high-pitched voices that were heading towards him a good deal faster than he was able to react. WilyKit and WilyKat thundered around the corner, oblivious to the world around them, and almost knocked him from his feet. It took all his strength to stay upright, much less answer the questions they were excitedly throwing at him.

"Wow!" WilyKit cried, "you're awake. How are you?"

Her brother added to the clamour. "Are you all right?"

"Are you feeling better?"

"Do you want something to eat?"

"Shall I get Snarf?"

"Do you need help?"

Lion-O held up his hands in defeat. "Stop," he said. "I just want to know what happened."

The kittens exchanged glances.

"You don't remember?" WilyKit said doubtfully.

"Everything until I passed out. What happened to Cheetara?"

"Oh, she's all right," WilyKat muttered, kicking an imaginary lump of dirt with his toe. "She's a bit funny though."

Relief flooded his tired body. She was alive. Cheetara was still with him. "Funny? How?"

The kitten shrugged. "She's gone away."

The breath caught in his throat. "Why?"

"She was upset about what happened," WilyKit explained. "But I don't really know. You should ask Tygra."

"Yes, I will. Where is he?"

"In the council room. We've just had dinner."

So it was night. "How long have I been unconscious?" Lion-O asked.

WilyKit grinned. "Ages. I'm pleased you're all right now though."

With that, the pair darted away, happy as children usually were that their world had returned to a semblance of normality. From what they had said, however, Lion-O feared that it was only skin deep.

He continued on his way until he reached the door of the chamber. It opened at his approach and the occupants within looked up at him with a mixture of surprise, relief and disapproval. Snarf embodied all three sentiments at once and hurried over to help him, alternatively scolding and purring with delight.

"Weeow, you shouldn't be up," he chided. "But I'm so glad that you are because it means you're all right, snarf, snarf. You had me worried, Lion-O. I've a few more white hairs because of you. Don't do it again!"

"No, Snarf," he replied meekly, allowing himself to be helped to the nearest chair. Snarf dashed around, saying although dinner was over, it would take him no time at all to make Lion-O his favourite dish. When he had finally vanished through the door in pursuit of his quest, Lion-O was able to meet the inquiring gaze of the other person still in the room.

"I have you to thank for saving my life," he said.

Tygra regarded him over the top of his mug. "Actually, no, Cheetara did that at considerable cost to herself. How are you feeling now?"

Lion-O ran a quick internal assessment and was pleased to report that apart from his tiredness, everything seemed to be intact and functioning normally.

"You were lucky," Tygra said, taking another sip of his drink. He placed the empty mug on the table and pushed it away. "By rights, you should be dead."

"I thought I would be." He lowered his eyes, anticipating Tygra's next pronouncement. "You think I made a mistake, don't you?"

"Do you?"

"No."

A sound midway between a grunt and a laugh escaped him. "Nor do I," Tygra said, "despite what Snarf thinks. You did save Cheetara and she in turn saved you. Things worked out for the best. Although…" He paused long enough to make Lion-O look up and meet his eyes. "In future, I think we would all prefer it if you did not take risks with your life."

"It wasn't something I could ask anyone else to do."

"Perhaps not. But you are Lord of the Thundercats. If anything happens to you--"

"Then you take over," Lion-O reminded him.

Tygra sighed. "It's not as simple as that. I can understand why you did it, but you weren't thinking clearly. You were already weak and the further strain upon you was too great. I would have gladly taken your place if you'd told me what you were planning."

It was a logical argument. Lion-O sought and found a way to counter it. "You were injured, Tygra. How are the ribs, by the way?"

He pulled a face. "Getting better. Of course, carrying you and Cheetara home didn't really help."

"I'm sorry," said Lion-O. "I should have wished you better."

Tygra smiled. "I guess you had other things on your mind."

"Like Mumm-ra, you mean? Do you think he's really gone this time?"

"He is the ever-living servant of evil. If his masters forgive him, I expect they can find a way to bring him back, especially now the Wish Crystal is gone. Its destruction probably negates long-standing wishes like that."

"But not for things like healing people?"

"That was more immediate. Besides, Snarf has shown no signs of his injuries returning." Again, the smile, this time more rueful. "Don't worry, I won't hold your oversight against you."

"Thanks."

"No problem. I've had worse. I'll get over it." He hesitated, the pause giving his next statement extra emphasis. "I wish I could say the same about Cheetara."

Lion-O's ears pricked up. "How is she? The Thunderkittens said she had gone away."

Tygra nodded slowly. "It took her a time to recover. We're still not quite sure what she did to save you, but it drained her. You have both been unconscious for some time."

"How long?"

"Five days. Cheetara awoke yesterday morning." Tygra looked away and toyed uneasily with the handle of his mug. "She said she needed space to think about what she was going to do, given all that had happened. She's gone to stay with the Warrior Maidens until she's made up her mind."

Lion-O felt his jaw dropping open. "She's… left us?"

"Possibly. For the first time, her eyes have been opened to the scope of the power she has at her command. Whether she can come to terms with it will determine her decision."

"No, she can't just leave us like that." Using the table as a support, Lion-O pushed himself up his feet. "I have to go to her and talk to her."

"If you must," said Tygra, regarding him with interest. "What will you say?"

"That we don't care what happened. Mumm-ra did that, not her. That we don't fear her, that we need her."

"I see."

Lion-O gave him a sharp look. "Then what would you say?"

His smile reached his eyes. "I would tell her the truth, Lion-O."

"I… can't."

"Why? What have you got to lose? Or are you afraid of what you might _gain_?"

"No," he murmured. "I'm afraid that I'll lose her completely."

"It's a risk. But then so is holding your tongue. She needs a reason to believe in herself again. Maybe you can provide her with one."

Lion-O allowed the smile that had been threatening to make itself known lift the corners of his lips. "How did you know?"

"Nothing escapes me, you should know that by now," Tygra said with a smirk. "That and the fact you wear your heart on your sleeve."

"I'm that obvious?"

"I would say risking your life for hers was a pretty big hint." He nodded to the door. "Go. Panthro's down in the hangar. He'll take you to the Treetop Kingdom. I'll let him know you're on your way."

With a final word of thanks, Lion-O hurried as fast as his weakened legs would allow him from the room and across the hall to where the Thundertank was housed. As Tygra had promised, Panthro was already waiting for him, with the engine purring in anticipation of their departure. He clambered into the front seat with a little effort and sighed with relief when he was able to sit back and let the Thundertank take the strain. Panthro said little during the course of their journey, beyond inquiring about his general health and making the usual comment about it being good to see him up and about. For all that, however, Lion-O could feel the curiosity burning off his friend and had to ask why.

"I'm just wondering what you think you can say to her to change her mind that we can't," said Panthro, alternating his gaze between the darkened road ahead and Lion-O's face. "She was adamant about not coming back until she had made up her mind. Although," he added ominously, "I would venture to say that she already has."

"You don't think she's coming back?" Lion-O asked.

Panthro pursed his lips. "Difficult to say. She was pretty cut up about what happened. We all told her it wasn't her fault, but she took it badly. I guess we'll know sooner or later if we're going to lose a member of our team."

Lion-O shuddered at the thought. "Don't say things like that. Cheetara would never leave us."

"It's happened in the past to others. Things happen and people can't live with it."

"But where would she go?"

"Anywhere as long as it wasn't near us, I should guess."

"Why?"

Panthro glanced over at him. "Because she's afraid of hurting us."

Lion-O felt his soul sink. If that were the reason, then surely nothing he said would bring her back. The journey continued in dogged silence as he turned this revelation over in his mind, constructing every possible permutation to counter whatever argument she might have against returning. Only when they bumped into a glade and the Thundertank pulled to a halt did he snap out of his reverie.

"It's all yours," said Panthro. "Good luck."

Lion-O hauled himself out and made his way over to the base of one of the towering trees where the Warrior Maidens made their home. This late, they had pulled up their ladders and only the flickering lights of torches high above gave any indication of their arboreal abode.

An arrow struck the ground inches from his feet and he stopped.

"What do you want, Thundercat?" came a voice from the unseen archer in the branches to his left.

"I need to speak to Cheetara."

"It's late. Come back in the morning."

"I'm sorry, this can't wait. Please."

A moment of inactivity passed, in which he caught himself holding his breath and praying that his request would be granted. Then, the sound of a hunting horn sang out through the glade. More lights came on amongst the leaves and shapes began to move.

"Lion-O?" he heard a familiar voice say. "Is there a problem?"

Even from this distance, Lion-O could tell he had woken Willa from her slumbers. Her usually sleek hair was dishevelled and she was rubbing her eyes.

"No problem," he called up, "but I must speak to Cheetara."

"Why?"

"It's important."

Willa sighed. "It must be, to have made you come out in the middle of the night to disturb us. Get her, Nayda."

"I'm here."

Another figure joined them and Lion-O saw Cheetara looking down at him.

"Go home, Lion-O. I'm all right."

"Good," he replied. "Please, come down. I must speak with you."

She shook her head. "There's nothing to say."

"Very well. Then I'll come up."

He grabbed a creeper and made a good attempt at heaving himself up. His arms would not bear his weight and betrayed him by sending him reeling backwards to end up flat on his back. From above, he thought he heard someone laugh, and then came Willa's voice, ordering for the lift to be lowered.

She was waiting for him when he reached the uppermost balcony level and gestured to where Cheetara stood some feet away.

"Don't be too long," she said. "Some of us have to get up early in the morning."

"Yes, thank you, Willa," said Cheetara.

Willa made an approving noise and, pulling her wrap tightly about her shoulders, left them alone. For a long time, Lion-O stared at Cheetara, not knowing what to say until she broke the silence.

"You wanted to talk," she prompted.

"Yes," he replied, startled out of his confusion. "Why are you here?"

She sighed and looked away. "I would have thought that was obvious."

"No."

"Yes, you do. I tried to kill my friends. That must never happen again."

"It won't."

Her eyes returned sharply to his. "How can you be so sure?"

"Now you know of what you are capable, you will learn how to handle it."

"How?"

"We will help you."

She snorted and folded her arms. "No, Lion-O. I've made up my mind. I must go away. Even being here with the Warrior Maidens makes me nervous."

"Cheetara, no, don't do that." He reached for her, but she took a step backwards away from him. "We don't fear you."

"Then you should. You saw what my powers can do in the wrong hands."

"Exactly. It wasn't you who did all those things. It was Mumm-ra controlling you."

"And how easily I gave in." She sighed. "I knew something was wrong and I tried to ignore it. But that only made him stronger. What sort of Thundercat am I that I didn't share something as important as that with my friends?"

"You weren't to know," Lion-O said reasonably. "No one blames you."

"They don't need to," she muttered. "I blame myself." Her gaze dropped to the floor and she seemed to be staring at the wooden floorboards, although Lion-O could tell that her thoughts were far from this place. "You should go," she said at last. "There's nothing for you here."

"Except you," he said on impulse.

Her eyebrows twitched upwards. "Is that enough?"

He knew what he wanted to say, but hesitancy held his tongue. _Tell her the truth_, Tygra had said. Would it be enough to change her mind, or only make him look even more foolish than he felt? He had no idea how she felt about him, if indeed she considered him at all. After all, it was not that long ago that he had been yapping at her heels as a cub. If he had trouble adjusting to the change, he had to wonder if she felt the same. And if so, then what he had to say could drive her even further away.

He decided to play it safe.

"You're a member of our team," he replied awkwardly. "We need every Thundercat we can get if we want to remain on Third Earth and have any chance of survival. If you leave, the odds will tip in the Mutants favour."

She took a deep breath and nodded. "I understand that. But I also understand that I am a weapon they can use against us. No, it's better that I leave. You'll manage without me."

"We won't," Lion-O insisted, feeling the tug of deeper emotions trying to escape the confines he had placed on them. "Please, Cheetara, stay."

She had wandered a few paces away and now turned on him with tears burning bright in her eyes. "Why?"

"Because…" He swallowed hard and tried to think of something mildly sensible to say instead of the foolish notions that crowded his head. But there was nothing. All that was left was how he felt. And it would know containment no more. "Because I love you!"

She stared at him, her mouth slightly agape, shock showing in her expression. Lion-O cursed inwardly, knowing he had shown his hand and failed. She would definitely leave now.

"I'm sorry," he mumbled. "I'll leave. I shouldn't have said that."

He turned, stopping only when a warm hand came to rest on his arm.

"Yes, you should," Cheetara said, coming round in front of him. "Lion-O, I never realised."

"Really? Tygra says I was obvious."

"To him maybe, but I… I must have been blind." She stared into his eyes as though searching for something. "That's why you risked your life to save me, isn't it?"

He nodded.

"I felt so guilty," she went on, "making you having to do something like that. But it wasn't because of a sense of duty, was it?"

"No, I did it because I love you," he said, reaching out to take her hands in his. She did not resist his touch and her fingers curled around his as though they had found their natural resting place. "Because I could not imagine my life without you. If you were not here, then nor would I wish to be. And you, you did the same for me. Tygra told me so."

A look of confusion clouded her expression. "I did it, because I did not want to lose you, Lion-O. Over these past few months, I've found myself viewing you not as my lord, but as my friend and…" She paused. "Something more."

His heart leapt. Could it be possible that she had the same feelings for him as he had for her? "Cheetara, what are you saying?"

"I'm saying that… that… oh, I don't know what I mean." She abruptly pulled away. "All I know is that if I stay, I will end up hurting the people I love and I couldn't bear that."

"And I couldn't bear to be parted from you," Lion-O said.

She shrugged the hand away that he laid on her shoulder. "No, it's wrong. You are Lord of the Thundercats. You need a lady and I'm…"

"The woman I love," he finished for her.

She turned and met his gaze. "You mean that, don't you? You don't fear me, after all that happened?"

"It only makes me love you more. I understand, Cheetara, what it feels like to be in possession of great power. Coming to terms with the relationship I have with the Sword of Omens hasn't been easily, but if I can do it, so can you."

"The Sword you gave away to save my life," she said with a rueful smile. "How can I doubt how you feel about me?"

"Perhaps," he ventured, remembering the conversation he had with Tygra back at the Lair, "it's yourself that you doubt."

She considered that possibility and nodded. "Perhaps you're right. What are we going to do about it?"

He took her in his arms and held her close to him. "Come home with me. Don't leave. That's not the answer."

"And sleeping with you is?" she said, smiling at his boldness.

He felt a blush spreading across his cheeks. "Oh, I didn't mean--"

Cheetara put a finger to his lips to silence him. "No words," she said softly. "Show me."

Her head tilted very slightly towards his and he knew what she was offering. Tentatively, like sipping the cool waters of a mountain stream, he let his lips touch hers and felt the shiver that flowed through her body. She kissed him, drawing deep to test the depths of his feelings. He hoped he did not disappoint.

"Well?" he said, when she drew away and stared up into his eyes. "Will you come with me?"

"Anywhere," she whispered.

And he knew his wish had come true.

**The End**

THUNDERCATS, characters, names and related indicia are trademarks of © Warner Bros. Entertainment Inc. and Ted Wolf. All rights reserved. Stories, characters and incidents mentioned in this work are entirely fictional. Characters, names, etc. are used without permission and the above story has no official endorsement. This is a work of fan fiction, for entertainment purposes only and certainly not for profit. No infringement of rights is intended nor any harm meant by its creation and existence. May you enjoy reading it as much as I have enjoyed writing it. Thundercats Forever!


End file.
